She felt nothing, right?
by DeliciousNewYork
Summary: Hermione, sick of Draco's insults, decides to take matters into her own hands. But what happens when real feelings emerge and her past resurfaces? Doesn't follow DH.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own these characters. Shocked, right?

"Get away from me you filthy mudblood!"

This was normal talk for Hermione to hear coming from Draco Malfoy's mouth, and this was not the only time she would be upset by it. Those words hurt the very first time she heard them, and they would hurt until the day she died.

Hermione was tired of being hurt by Malfoy. She wanted to scream at him, hex him, hurt him, but he was already gone. It wouldn't have done any good anyway; he just smirked when she yelled, and she wasn't about to get expelled for a worthless piece of slime like Draco Malfoy.

So how could she hurt him? The idea came to her so suddenly she gasped as if in pain. He hates mudbloods does he? Well then, how shameful would it be for him to want one, and then be rejected by one? Hermione had some work to do.

Hermione went up into her dormitory. No one was around, so she examined herself in the full length mirror provided in all girls' rooms. "Not too bad, but definitely not temptress material," Hermione thought aloud to herself. She quickly went into Lavender's things to find her beauty spells. She had enough of them. Hermione didn't want to do anything drastic, just some subtle changes, like her hair. She needed something to make her hair behave.

Twenty minutes later she had golden tinted locks gently cascading across her shoulders. Now for the outfit. The skirt was definitely too long. Another quick spell flawlessly performed had her pleated skirt barely reaching mid-thigh. She pulled on knee-high socks and three and half inch heels. Next she removed her robe and unbuttoned the first three buttons of her shirt. Two coats of mascara and lip gloss finished her look off. Time for potions.

Hermione knew Malfoy was looking for a little action as his current girlfriend was going through a cold spell. Hermione couldn't remember her name at the moment, Malfoy did have so many. He was used to not starving for attention, and gossip told that he was desperate. Hermione could use this to her advantage.

Hermione sauntered into class just before she would have been tardy. Every pair of eyes went in her direction. She knew she was getting the attention she needed to snare Malfoy, yet she gained no pleasure in it. She wasn't putting on this show to get attention, she wanted revenge.

Hermione was partnered today with a slytherin girl, and their workspace was next to Malfoy's. Hermione sweetly asked if she could borrow Malfoy's knife, knowing he would refuse. As he did she slowly reached for it anyway, her breast brushing against his arm. He recoiled, and Hermione pretended not to notice anything.

At dinner that night, she felt all eyes on her again. She had put on more make up, and began carrying herself in a new way. But she only wanted one pair of eyes on her, one pair that couldn't resist her. He was looking right at her now. He was hers.

* * *

Draco Malfoy prided himself on being in complete control of his emotions. He could become calm and relaxed in a single instant if he so chose. But Granger was beginning to present a problem. For some time now, he had been noticing her in ways her found incredibly disturbing. He began to torment her with his vile words just so he could see her cheeks flush and lips tremble. And today! She walked in with her short skirt and heels and when she brushed her…

"Get a grip," Malfoy cautioned himself. After all, she was just a filthy mudblood. He had been told over and over again that if someone was not pureblood, then that someone was nothing. And he could never find "nothing" attractive. So why did his pulse quicken when she walked through the door? Why could he not keep his eyes off her?

He knew he shouldn't be looking over at the Gryffindor table so much. Granger looked up at him, he sneered at her, and she winked back.

He felt his face flush, and he quickly took a drink of water. His hands were shaking slightly. He had to get out of here. He made some lame excuse about feeling well and quickly left the great hall.

* * *

Hermione saw Draco leave. She got up to follow him, when Ron grabbed her arm.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked in an exaggerated whisper.

"I have some homework to do."

"You've been acting, and dressing, strangely today. Everyone has noticed."

"So I'm not allowed to dress how I want? I need to study."

That last comment was a lie. Hermione never really needed to study. The only reason she did for so many years was because she was insecure in her memory capabilities, but she hadn't actually studied in a year. She still had top marks.

She needed to find Malfoy, and Ron's pestering probably let him get away. She needed to speed things up. She wanted revenge on Malfoy so badly she could almost taste the tanginess of it, a bitter taste in her mouth that nearly made her want to gag.

There he was. She just caught sight of his blonde head escaping up the stairs. Too bad for him she knew her way around this castle. She would be able to cut him off.

* * *

Draco couldn't think straight. He was aimlessly wandering around, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. His relationship with Pansy ended, and people expected him to be upset over that. But he had felt nothing for her, and she knew it.

Pansy knew he wanted someone else, she just didn't know who. No one knew, and he intended to make sure no one found out.

He wasn't watching where he was going, and then he heard a voice. Her voice.

"You look lost."

He stopped in his tracks.

"Get away from me you filthy mudblood," he whispered, but his heart was not in it.

"Do you really want me to go?"

"…no." It was the hardest thing Draco had ever said.

"I didn't think so."

Draco tensed as she moved closer to him. She grabbed his arm and his heart started pounding. It was so loud she must hear it!

She was leading him into an empty classroom. Draco's head was spinning, and he had no idea where they were.

Hermione gently pushed him through the door and closed the door behind her. When she turned around she had the faintest of smiles on her lips.

Draco began to tremble. Why was he feeling this way? He didn't have long to ponder.

Hermione knew what Malfoy was thinking. He was so transparent. She moved closer to him whispered gently in his ear, "I know you want me."

Suddenly Malfoy was kissing her, and it took all of Hermione's willpower not to pull away in disgust. She parted her lips and let his tongue enter into her mouth. It was a slow kiss. Malfoy was slowly caressing the inside of her mouth. Hermione thought now would be an ideal time for a slight moan to escape her, and she felt Malfoy get excited.

She felt nothing.

Hermione backed Malfoy up against a wall; she was the one in control. Malfoy's hand snaked up to grab her breast, and Hermione resisted the urge to slap him across the face. She wanted to rip his throat out, and her kisses became more intense and violent.

She broke away.

Malfoy was breathing hard, his silvery-blue eyes locked on her brown ones.

"I…I have never…felt anything like this…ever." Malfoy tried to mumble out, but Hermione placed her hand over his mouth, hating herself for what she was about to say, and whispered to him, "We can feel it together."


	2. Chapter 2

Guess what? I don't own this character! They belong to J.K. Rowling!

Hermione let the scalding water flow down her back. She wanted to feel this pain, she deserved it. She felt disgusted at her self. Those departing words to Malfoy…

She finally stopped the flow of the burning water. She didn't know if she could continue with this. When she got dressed all her buttons where buttoned, and her skirt was knee length again. She kept the heels because she like being tall, so even if she was no longer going to seduce Malfoy, she could stare him down with confidence.

She dreaded going to breakfast, she didn't think she could stand to see him right then. She wanted nothing to do with him, and seeing him would just be too much.

* * *

Draco searched intently for Hermione all through breakfast, not even being discreet that he was looking for someone. She never showed up, and he found himself worrying. The moment he realized the emotion he was feeling, he mentally kicked himself. Why was he feeling this anyway?

Draco couldn't concentrate throughout all his classes. He was having a battle within his own mind, and he was losing.

The memory of her body pressed against his, her perfume filling his nostrils, her lips gently caressing his own consumed him all day. He still hadn't seen her today.

He went to sleep, and his dreams were full of her.

* * *

Hermione woke up the next day. Her dreams were full of Malfoy. They were more like nightmares really. Every mocking word and harsh insult ever spoken by Malfoy was driven into her mind with the force of a hammer. She woke with a pounding headache and a renewed desire to even the score with Malfoy.

She wore her regular clothes again, just like yesterday, but still kept the heels. She had transfiguration with Malfoy today, and she wasn't sure if she could handle the short skirt this time.

Why had this crazy scheme come to her? How did she know Malfoy would take the bait? The truth is she didn't, she took a risk. It paid off. She knew now Malfoy was at least attracted to her, but she wanted him to _want_ her, to think of nothing but her, to be so enamored with her that when she finally rejected him he would be thrown into a chasm of despair, unable to crawl out.

Her bitterness shocked her, but also filled her with the confidence that she was doing the right thing.

* * *

Draco waited intently for Hermione to show up. Hermione? When did he stop thinking of her as Granger?

This thought frightened him more than any other he had. More than thoughts of touching her, because thinking of her in a more personal way meant he was becoming more attached. Draco constantly analyzed himself in this manner, but never to such shocking results. He tried to lose all thoughts of her, but then she walked through the door.

She looked more ruffled than when he saw her last. Her clothes were less provocative, and her hair was put up. Tendrils of it were falling across her neck, and he realized he found her more attractive now than he ever had.

He couldn't concentrate throughout the entirety of class. He needed to be alone with her. Class ended and she rushed out, Draco quickly followed, and it was completely obvious to everyone who he was chasing after.

* * *

Hermione needed to get out of class. That morning she was full of determination until she found Malfoy staring at her. She felt sick to her stomach. The idea of his groping hands and wandering lips anywhere near her body almost made her vomit.

She ran from class, hoping to escape him. Unfortunately, she heard footsteps behind her and instinctively knew they belonged to Malfoy.

She quickly turned a corner and ducked into a classroom, but he saw her and followed her in.

"Malfoy, what happened yesterday…" she let her thoughts hang in the air.

"Hermione, I've noticed you in ways I've found disturbing almost but--"

"Disturbing. You find me disturbing?" She found herself getting upset that he felt this way.

"That's not what I meant. I have this picture in my mind of how I _should _see everyone. When I didn't see you in that way anymore, it scared me. But I'm not scared anymore."

Hermione was dumbstruck. It took her a moment to even realize he had said her name. Malfoy had moved closer. She backed away. This time it was her back that was up against the wall. He kissed her gently. Kissed her eyelids, each cheek and nose before brining his lips to her own. Hermione couldn't move, she barely breathed.

Malfoy backed up. He had a strange look in his eyes. He turned and walked away.

Hermione was dumbstruck. What had happened? And why did Malfoy stop?

* * *

Draco's head was reeling. He had no idea what was wrong with him. He shouldn't be feeling what he was feeling, especially for a mudblood.

For the first time in his life, Malfoy was ashamed his mind immediately jumped to the word "mudblood." It had never bothered him before.

The memory of Hermione stiffening as he kissed her was like a blow to the face. What was her game? Draco found himself getting angry. She was playing some sort of game! Why else would she say the things she did and then pull away. What purpose could she gain from doing this to him?

His anger began to consume him. She was toying with him. He stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around, gazing at the classroom he had just exited. She was still in there, and he was going to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Hermione barely moved. The only difference was she had slid to the ground. She jumped when Malfoy pushed the door open and slammed it shut. She feel his anger, see it in his flashing silver eyes, which were no longer silver, but the steel gray of violent storm.

She slowly got to her feet. Malfoy took a step closer. She had nowhere to go; her back was already to the wall. He began to move towards her, growing more and more menacing as he advanced.

"What game are you playing?" Malfoy asked. His voice was calm, a frightening contrast to the anger in his eyes.

Hermione was terrified. She did the only thing she could think of.

She pulled him to her and kissed him.


	3. Chapter 3

Again, these are not my characters. And I know the relationship is moving fast, but does anyone really want to spend five chapters reading about how Draco starts to find Hermione attractive? If you did, I'm sorry, because that is not in here. Oh well. Enjoy!

They kissed, passionately, violently. Hermione's back was still against the wall, and Draco grabbed her wrists and held them above her head.

Draco was angry. He wanted to hurt her, kiss her. The line between love and hate is thin and blurry, and he had no idea what side he was on. He could feel her struggling to get away, but he had no intention of letting her. After all, she kissed him.

Draco did not know what he was doing. His mind was detached from his body. He only knew Hermione was not going to get away from him this time. He had no idea what schemes she had in her pretty little head; he only knew she was not going to get a chance to do them.

He felt Hermione loosen. Her arms above her head went slack, but he did not release his grip on her wrists. Instead, he held them together with one hand, and slowly brought the other down her arm. She shivered.

He was still kissing her, less passionate now, gently caressing her lips with his own. She let out a slight whimper, and Draco was jarred back into reality.

He opened his eyes and saw a touch of fear in her eyes, and something else he could not identify.

* * *

Hermione was shocked at what she did. When she was alone with her bitterness and hatred, it was easy to plan her revenge on Malfoy. But then she was in his presence, and her stomach would get queasy. She would always be ready to give up on her mission. And then they would kiss, and she would feel sicker than she ever had in her life. 

When Malfoy had taken charge of the situation, she wanted nothing more than to get away. But he wouldn't let her. Looking in to his eyes now, she was scared, and angry at herself for feeling that way. Then she realized she had an even more shocking emotion, pity. She pitied Malfoy. She pitied him for his family, for his friends, and…for what _she_ was doing to him.

His grip on her wrists loosened, and she immediately broke away, but did not leave.

"What kind of game are you playing, Granger?" Malfoy asked, reverting to using her surname.

"I'm not playing at anything," she lied with ease.

"Then why do you look terrified. And why do you pull away from me?"

"I'm…scared."

"Of what?"

"I'm just so…unsure of my feeling right now. My head is spinning and my thoughts are incoherent. I've never felt like this around any other person?" This was not a lie, as she had never hated anyone as she hated Malfoy.

He backed up a step. _Stupid git probably thinks I like him or something_, Hermione thought with a slight smile.

* * *

_She's smiling, why is she smiling,_ was all that was going through Draco's head at the moment. It made no sense that she would have such a mischievous smile after confessing she never felt for anyone what she felt for him. When she told him that, it was as if her thoughts were mirroring his. 

This was too much for him right now. All he wanted to do was kiss her again, but the thought of her pulling away again was too much to bear. _God, I'm turning into a wuss_.

He stared at her for a few moments more, and quickly left the room.

* * *

The moment he was gone, Hermione let out the breath she had been holding. She realized she had no idea what she was getting herself into. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now, she didn't know if she could go through with it. Her wrists were still red from where he held her. 

She was confused and scared. She had no idea what had gotten into her. Everyone had changed after the war; she just didn't think her change would go in this direction. After Dumbledore's death, and the violent summer that followed, Hogwarts did not open the following year. With Voldemort defeated, school could resume. Many students did not return, some were dead, and others were disinterested. Harry. He didn't come back. He killed during the war, killed more than he wanted. After finally killing Voldemort, he vanished, writing brief letters to Hermione and Ron, letting them know he was okay.

Most people tried to forget what had happened. Hermione still could not believe some of the things she witnessed, or some of the things she had done. They memories of all the pain and suffering were with her constantly. Except when she was planning revenge on Malfoy. He had betrayed Voldemort at a crucial time, and gave Harry the advantage he needed. Malfoy had brought Harry the final Horcrux, but he still had his hatred of any not-pureblood. Perhaps he would never kill one, but he would always hate. That was why it was so important she continued to do what she was doing.

_What if he actually fell for me? _The thought came unbidden. If he actually fell in love with her, or at least came to terms with his attraction, could he forget his hate? Would he ever be able to see that it does not matter into what family a person was born? All that matters is what a person does with their life. Suddenly, her plan for revenge was no longer about revenge. It was about healing, healing a twisted and broken soul.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry this took longer than I had expected. Thanks for the reviews, they were lovely!**

**I do not own these characters...sad face.**

Hermione couldn't look Draco in the eyes. She was near him again in potions, but this time did not act coy. The potions room was warm for once, but Hermione did not roll up her sleeves like the rest of the class. Her wrists had faint purple bruises on them, and she did not want awkward questions.

She could feel his eyes on her but refused to look at him. She made her potion flawlessly and turned it in quickly. She didn't want to be alone with him at the moment. Too many strange thoughts and emotions were filling her head. Her revelation yesterday was still shocking to her. She pitied Draco and wanted to help him. Draco. It was amazing how easy it was to use his first name, at least in her head.

She packed her things and swiftly exited the room, not wanting Draco to catch up with her. She wanted to help him get over his hate, but this thought was more frightening than the revenge that had previously consumed her mind.

Footsteps her trailing close behind her, getting closer. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm. She turned, heart pounding, expecting to see Draco. It was Ron. Disappointment filled her.

"Hermione, is everything okay? You don't seem like yourself." Ron went through changes, just like everyone else. However, his change wasn't as negative as others. Ron became more empathetic to people around him, and he knew Hermione was in some kind of distress. The short relationship they started crumbled quickly as the war grew more violent. Ron felt things could work out, but Hermione knew she no longer had any feelings for him.

Ron was holding her hand, and Draco turned the corner. Hermione grabbed Ron to her, giving him a hug. "Thanks for your concern, Ron." She didn't know what possessed her to do this. She thought she wanted to help Draco! So why would she try to make him jealous by being close to Ron? Draco stopped, turned around, and left. Hermione was cursing herself in her mind. _Stupid, stupid!_ She quickly let go of Ron and gave a lame excuse about homework. It worked every time. She didn't want to lose Draco after she had come to the decision to help him.

* * *

Draco didn't know why he was upset. So what if the mudblood wanted to hug the weasel? It's not like she was anything special to him. It's true, he enjoyed kissing her, but he enjoys kissing a lot of people. _She's not like 'other people'_ that annoying part of his mind whispered. He suppressed the thought. 

He needed some air. The walls seemed to be closing in, and he couldn't breathe. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the grounds in a warm glow. He walked to the lake, grateful that no one was around, as everyone was at dinner.

He sat beneath a tree, eyes closed, trying to forget the turbulent thoughts flowing through his mind. The setting sun was warm on his face. It suddenly got cold, and he knew someone was standing in front of him. He opened his eyes, and Hermione was standing over him, haloed in light. She knelt beside him but didn't say a word. He wasn't going to initiate the conversation either, so that sat in silence and watched the sun set over the lake. It began to get darker, and colder.

Draco looked over at Hermione and noticed the goose bumps on her legs. He smirked as she suppressed a shiver, but then put his arm around her. His anger flared as she stiffened in his embrace, but she relaxed a second later and leaned against his shoulder.

_How did we get here?_ Draco thought, amused by the situation. _This is Hermione Granger! And she's snuggling with me._ She smelled wonderful. He tightened his grip around her and pulled her even closer to him. She put up no resistance. With his other hand he gently grabbed her chin and turned her face towards his before lowering his head and kissing her softly on the lips. It took all his strength to not push her to the ground and kiss her with all the passion he felt inside him. He didn't want to frighten her away again.

Hermione let Draco kiss her, even though she still felt nothing romantic towards him. However, she no longer felt sick to her stomach at the thought of being close to him. His kisses were soft and lingering, gentle and close-mouthed. There was no fluttering of butterflies in her stomach, but the experience was not altogether unpleasant.

It got darker, colder. Hermione shivered, and Draco pulled her closer. She put one hand around his neck and opened her mouth. The kiss deepened. Draco felt his body catch on fire and knew he had to stop before he lost control. He slowly broke the kiss and looked into Hermione's eyes, and was glad he did not see fear or loathing in them.

"We should probably get back," he whispered.

"Yeah."

Draco helped Hermione to her feet and hand in hand, they made their way back to the castle.

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep that night. The emotions swimming in her mind were too confusing, so sleep eluded her. She had no idea what she was doing. Did she want revenge? Or his touch on her body? She shivered at the memory, and this time, not from the cold. She hadn't felt this way about him while he was kissing her. 

She sat up, knowing she was not going to get much sleep this night. She decided her time would be better spent figuring her self out than trying to sleep.

She got up and through a robe over her shorts and t-shirt she had begun wearing to bed instead of her usual nightgown, and went down to the Gryffindor common room. Staring into the fire, she brought the events of the last few days to the surface of her mind. How could she have gone from hating him and wanting to ruin his life, to kissing him and wanting to help him?

She then remembered a conversation she had with Harry during the war…

_"Hermione, I don't think you should come."_

_"How can you even say that Harry? This could be the turning point in the war, and you want me to stay away?"_

_"You're not a killer Hermione! And that is exactly what you would have to do if you came. You're not ready for this."_

_"How could you possibly know what I am ready for?"_

_"Hermione, you are too much of an Empath. You feel the pain in others too well. It makes you such a wonderful person, but it can hurt you in a situation like this. Please, Hermione, stay away from this one."_

_She nodded with tears in her eyes._

_"Plus, I can stay here to heal anyone who is sent back injured." She wanted to help so badly. Harry nodded in response, and turned to walk into the final battle with Voldemort. _

She was an Empath. It was a recent skill she had acquired, along with healing. She wasn't as strong as some empaths, but she could feel overwhelming emotions in people. She felt pain, longing, and sadness in Draco, and so she pitied him. She could no longer hate him, for she now knew the hurtful words and disdainful stares hid a much deeper and more vulnerable Draco. She didn't love him, or particularly like him, but she pitied him and did not want to see him in pain any longer.

* * *

Draco could not sleep that night. His mind kept drifting from Hermione to the day his father died. It was in the last battle, which Draco could not attend. He had recently betrayed the Dark Lord and his own father, but this was not enough to earn the trust of the Order. So he sat in a dark room, waiting for any kind of news. 

His thoughts went back to Hermione, to the first time he saw her not as a less-than-worthy mudblood (the word upset him now), but as a vulnerable young woman. He was sitting alone in the corner of the hospital wing. If anyone became too badly injured, they would be sent her, along with news of how the battle was going. It was a cloudy night and so very dark…

_He was sitting on the floor, leaning his head back against the wall. Suddenly the door slowly opened and Hermione walked in. He was about to stand and go over to her, he was that desperate for conversation. Then he heard her begin to sob. He realized she had been ordered to stay behind because of her empathy, and that was his fault. He was_ _the one who had warned the Order that an Empath's feelings could not always be trusted to do the right thing. She could hesitate, and that hesitation could kill her._

_Looking at her now, he felt guilty. It wasn't a feeling he liked. He never alerted her to his presence, but watched her cry, but then gain control over herself. He never saw her cry again._

Hermione had always been like a statue around him, with the occasional anger flares. It was strange to see she had emotion, and shocking to see her cry.

His thoughts went back to his dead father. Harry killed him, he knew, but he felt no anger towards Potter. He knew it would have to happen.

Draco was not in his room, but had snuck outside to take a walk. He hated the indoors. His home life had been stifling, and being inside makes him feel the same way.

The grounds of Hogwarts were extensive, but it was possible to get to the border. Draco hadn't realized he walked so far, until he stopped and saw he was outside the magical protection of the school.

"Well, well, well, I didn't think it would be this easy to get my hands on you."

Draco turned around slowly, and was staring into the cold, mocking eyes of his father.

"You're dead," he whispered.

The only response Draco got before the world went black was his father laughing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, I do not own any of the characters, blah, blah, blah. Also, thank you Lady-Delphinea for giving me inspiration and a good idea! It was very appreciated!**

Hermione searched for Draco, but she could not find him. She really wanted to talk to him. Her thoughts were opaque and confusing, but when she was near him, things became clearer. Right now her head was spinning, throwing her brain back and forth. Revenge? Pity? _Passion_?

She discretely looked over at the Slytherin table for the tenth time to see if perhaps he would show up. He never did.

He didn't show up for any of his classes either. She was slightly embarrassed at the means she went to in order to find out about the classes she did not have with him. Stalking and spying were surprisingly easy.

She listened cautiously to the conversations of any Slytherins and found no one had seen Draco since yesterday.

She went to bed that night and her dreams were dark and shadowy.

* * *

Draco slowly opened his eyes. His head was pounding, and the light streaming in through the window wasn't helping. He realized he was at home in his bed. This was not where he expected to be. After all, he had betrayed the Dark Lord and his own father, the father who was supposed to be dead.

Draco started panicking; his father was going to kill him. But why would he be here in his room. He should be in the dungeons, but his father had elected to take him here. Why?

The door opened, and his father walked in with a slight smile on his face.

"Good. You're awake." Draco nodded in response, confused about what was going on.

"Draco, I'm not mad at you. I admit I was ready to kill you for the Dark Lord, but he's not here anymore."

"Father, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that yes, you betrayed the Dark Lord, but you defected to the winning side. A Malfoy always comes out on top, and you did, and I'm proud of you."

_He's Proud of me? When has he ever been proud of me?_ Draco had never heard his father ever say these words. His father wasn't a very loving man; he was never abusive, but he was always distant and deficient in his praise. Saying he was proud of Draco was akin to saying he loved him, words Draco knew he would never hear.

"I'm sorry I did what I did to bring you here, but I knew you would be unwilling to come with me."

_Now he's apologizing?_ Lucius never apologized.

"Draco, the Dark Lord is gone, but many of his supporters still live. Many whom the wretched "Order" believe to be dead. The time has come to finish the work our Lord started."

"What do you need me to do?"

* * *

Hermione was worried about Draco. She didn't want to be worried about him, and she certainly wasn't happy about being worried, but she was nevertheless. He had been missing for two weeks now, and reports had been coming in about the rising activity of Death Eaters, Death Eaters who were supposed to be dead.

It was amid this news on a rainy Wednesday the Harry came back to Hogwarts. Hermione was walking to class, fretting about Draco (still wishing she wasn't) when Harry was standing in front of her.

"Hello Hermione," Harry said with a gentle smile.

"Harry!" Hermione threw herself into his arms. He chuckled and held her close.

"It's good to see you too. I need to speak with everyone involved with the order."

Hermione nodded, released Harry, and went to find everyone who needed to hear was Harry had to say.

An hour later, the order was meeting in the faculty lounge. Hermione could feel the tension in the air. Harry had news, and it wasn't going to be good.

Harry walked to the front of the room. He had changed. No longer was he the skinny boy with broken glasses. He was taller, and still slim, but he no longer wore his glasses and the look in his eyes was cold and hard. He had grown up. They all had. Even Ron sometimes showed the same hardness in his eyes. Hermione did not know that she often did as well.

"Voldemort is dead, but his cause lives on." Silence followed Harry's pronouncement, the first words he had spoken after his initial greeting to Hermione.

"It has been made clear that several well known Death Eaters have faked their deaths. They have been gathering, growing in power and numbers for the past several months. Their goal is to continue the work their former master started." Harry went on to give the various members of the Order their assignments.

"Hermione, I need to speak with you." As the room began to empty, Hermione made her way towards Harry, apprehensive for some reason.

"Harry, what's wrong."

"Good, your Empath powers are still working. I'm going to need them."

"Actually Harry, I don't know if they are as strong as they once were. I can tell something is wrong by the expression on your face. I can only feel overpowering emotions in people, and sometimes not even then."

"Well, I need you to try. Lucius Malfoy is one of the Death Eaters who are still alive, and we believe he is the one who has taken Draco. If Lucius' past is anything to go by, you'll be able to feel Draco's pain."

Hermione's stomach clenched at the idea of Draco being tortured at the hands of his father. The reaction was not unexpected, but it still worried her. Why was she feeling this way? It was Malfoy.

Harry frowned. "Hermione is everything okay? I know you don't particularly like Malfoy, and to be honest neither do I, but he is the reason we won, and I don't like the idea of leaving him with the Death Eaters."

Hermione smiled. "I agree completely Harry. I don't know if I can help find him, but I will do my best."

"I expected no less."

Hermione nodded and was about to go when Harry gently grabbed her arm. Hermione turned back to him, a questioning look in her eyes. Harry smiled and whispered, "I've missed you Hermione," before lowering his lips to hers.

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	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is a bit shorter than others, but I liked where it ended. It is a bit of a filler chapter. Perhaps I will update soon, or maybe I'll wait for reviews!**

**Again, these are not my characters. Makes me sad.**

"Father, is there anything else you need?" Draco had finished the work his father wanted him to, and was now seeing if he could do more. _I can call him father now._ Draco had always addressed his father as "Sir," but now he could call him father and Lucius responded to it.

"No, Draco." His father was still short with him, but not callous. Draco was torn. He knew what his father was planning, and he did not agree with it, but he was helping. He was helping because he could call his father "Father."

Draco walked back to his room, his soul full of doubts and worries. How could he stand against his own flesh and blood? His father should have been furious because of the betrayal, but Draco was forgiven and praised instead. But how could he stand with his father knowing what he planned? His father's ultimate goal was to continue Voldemort's plan: destruction and enslavement of all muggle-borns. This would include Hermione.

Just thinking of her made his breath quicken and skin burn. He desperately wanted to see her, to hold her, to kiss her. His dreams centered on her, and the idea of her dying brought physical pain and depression.

He flung himself onto his bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Harry kissed her. Why did Harry kiss her? Why could she not stop thinking about it? Was it because she was shocked by it? Or because she wanted him to do it again? Hermione did not need this in her life right now. First Draco, then Harry. Ron had better not try to rekindle anything with her, she really didn't need that. 

"Hermione, are you ready to go?"

She jumped at the sound of Harry's voice. "Oh, Harry, yes, I'm ready, I have everything, and we can go whenever you are ready. Are you ready?" Hermione knew she was babbling.

"Hermione," he paused, "I'm sorry about what I did. I can see it made you uncomfortable. I just missed you and didn't think saying that was enough."

"It's okay Harry. You just startled me. And I am ready."

Harry smiled at her, took her hand, and led her out of the room. They were going to find Draco.

"First we are going to check the obvious place, Malfoy Manor. We cannot use any kind of spells to see into the place, so that is where you will come in. If we find him there, we have an excuse to raid the place." Harry was referring to the fact that no one could prove Lucius Malfoy was alive and using the dark arts. If Draco was within the Manor, the place could be searched by the ministry, as Draco is a missing person.

"So are we going to camp out in front of the house until I feel something?" Hermione didn't particularly relish the idea.

"Pretty much, yeah." Harry smiled at her dismay.

"Don't you think that would invite some kind of trouble?"

"Actually, things would be easier if some sort of trouble did come, because then we could search the house, find Lucius, arrest him, and see if Draco is there."

"Oh."

Hermione had never been to the Manor before, and was shocked at how beautiful it was. How could a place that spawned so much evil be so beautiful? Hermione tried to drive the awe from her mind, and settled down to find Draco.

Hermione had been closing herself off. The stronger Empaths would get distracted by the feelings of everyone around them, making concentration a bit difficult. Hermione had her own pain to deal with, and so she cut off her awareness of everyone around her. She slowly lowered the walls she had built in her mind, and a barrage of emotions not belonging to her flooded her senses. She gasped with the pain of others, and tried to narrow her focus on the manor.

It was difficult sorting through everyone's emotions. So much sadness was around her. She felt tears coming to her eyes and a gentle hand on her shoulder. She could feel Harry's concern and…love? Was he in love with her? This distraction made her abruptly put her mental walls back up. She took a deep breath and began again, making sure to block Harry's feelings. Finally she blocked out the feelings and emotions of the members of the order who came on this mission, and focused solely on the Manor. She felt no one.

* * *

Draco slowly opened his eyes. He was dreaming of Hermione, as usual, and was a little distressed the dream had ended, but even sadder that it wasn't true. 

He was slowly sinking into depression. He knew because he felt this way every day he was in this house. It had that effect on him.

He slowly left his room, preparing to see if he could work on anything else. If he didn't keep his mind occupied, he knew he would go crazy. He was walking towards his father's study, when he heard voices. He recognized both of them: his father and his ex-girlfriend Pansy.

Draco stood outside the door, and fear began to creep up his spine.

* * *

Hermione had her eyes closed, trying to focus all of her mind on whoever might be in the house. Suddenly her eyes snapped open. "He's afraid."

* * *

Draco heard the dismissal, but could not move from his spot. Pansy opened the door and smirked when she saw him. Draco taught her to smirk like that. The smirk deepened to an evil smile as she walked past him. 

"Draco, come in her." Draco shivered at the steely control in his father's voice. He took a breath and entered into the study.

* * *

"Who's afraid?" Harry sunk down to his knees beside Hermione. 

"Draco is. I know it's him. And someone is angry, very angry."

* * *

Draco slowly made his way towards his father, looking him straight in the eyes. 

"I've heard some…unpleasant news."

Draco said nothing. He didn't know what Pansy told his father, but he knew it would not be good news for him.

"Apparently, you have been showing some concern for a certain mudblood girl at school." Lucius began to shake with anger and disgust. Draco braced himself for what he knew was coming.

* * *

Hermione began to scream. 

**Please Review! I love getting reviews. They make me happy, and then I write!**


	7. Chapter 7

**To make up for my evil, evil cliffhanger, I made this my longest chapter yet! **

**I do not own these characters, I just borrow without asking for my own amusement.**

Pain exploded inside Hermione's head as she desperately tried to close her mind off to what Lucius was doing to his son. She recognized the Cruciatus Curse from when it was used on her during the fight against Voldemort. Then, as abruptly as the pain began, it stopped. She no longer felt anything from the house, as if the inhabitants occupied it no longer.

Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Harry, "They're gone."

Harry swore at her simple statement. Already, aurors were entering the manor in search of any evidence to Draco's whereabouts or Lucius's involvement.

"Hermione, are you all right?"

"I'm fine Harry. It's just, I haven't opened myself up like that in a long time."

Hermione remained seated in the grass, trying to calm herself. She began to build the walls around her mind; the anger and frustration of others was amplifying her own. She took deep, even breaths, and her shaking stopped.

"Harry, what do we do now?"

"I don't know," he answered in a dejected and almost hopeless tone. Hermione realized then that Harry really did not know what he was doing, he never did. And he was scared, he always was scared.

Hermione stood and placed her hand on Harry's shoulder and whispered, "We'll think of something."

* * *

Draco still felt like his very bones were on fire. He was curled up on the ground. He flinched as his father knelt down beside him. 

"Draco, I'm sorry I had to do that."

Draco nodded in response, fighting to keep tears from falling. He flinched again as his father helped him to his feet.

"Draco, I overreacted to the news Ms. Parkinson brought me. I should have asked you first what had happened. I ask for your forgiveness my son."

Draco looked into his father's eyes, and what he saw there shocked him more than his father's punishment. He saw sincerity and anguish. His father was actually upset for hurting him.

"I forgive you father."

Lucius grabbed his son into a tight embrace. Draco couldn't remember the last time his father held him. It was wonderful. This was what he always wanted from his father: love and approval.

"Now son, explain to me what Ms. Parkinson was talking about."

Draco didn't know what to say. He didn't know what Pansy had seen. She couldn't have ever seen him kiss Hermione, he made sure of that. He thought of a quick lie, pained that he could not be honest with his father.

"I couldn't let the Dark Lord's death be in vain. Those who destroyed him still lived, and I was going to make sure they paid. And if getting close to them was the way to do, so be it." He started to go into depth about what he had planned to do. Getting close to the golden trio, who dared to defy the Dark Lord and remain alive, was the first step in learning their weaknesses and destroying them. Again Draco saw a flicker of pride in his father's eyes, and he knew he would do whatever it took to make sure his father looked at him like that always.

* * *

Hermione was sitting between Harry and Ron in the Gryffindor common room. Harry would be staying at Hogwarts for a few more days until he left to do whatever it was he did. Hermione realized she no longer knew what one of her best friends was up to anymore. _I don't even know what Ron is doing half the time come to think of it._ Hermione sighed, knowing that something wonderful had ended, and she couldn't even specify when. 

Harry, noticing her sigh, smiled and put his hand on her knee, giving it a comforting squeeze. Ron saw this and got a bit of a jealous look in his eye. Hermione let out a small laugh and placed her head on Ron's shoulder. _Well, at least we still like one another_, Hermione thought to herself in a wry voice. And then her thoughts fell to Draco. She shuddered slightly remembering his pain. Harry moved closer to her, putting his arm around her waist as if he thought she was cold. Hermione didn't really notice, as she was already analyzing all the places Lucius could have taken Draco.

Hermione eventually left both Ron and Harry and went to her comfort zone, the library. She really didn't expect to find anything helpful there, but she always felt more relaxed and in control surrounded by knowledge.

She didn't remember falling asleep; however, a hand was shaking her to wake her up. Hermione slowly opened her eyes, trying to remember the dream she had. She couldn't. All she was left with was an unpleasant feeling in her stomach.

* * *

Draco still had no idea where he was, but he really didn't care. He was with his father, a father who actually cared for him, a father who trusted him. Draco was becoming more and more involved with his father's plans. 

Soon, he would return to school, and then the months of careful deliberation done by his father and other loyal-to-the-cause death eaters would come to in a bloody culmination of pain and destruction. And Draco was ready to be a part of it. Not out of hatred or malice, but because he could not stand the thought of losing his father again. He thought he had accepted his father's death, and perhaps he had, but knowing his father was alive made leaving him impossible.

* * *

Any member of the Order currently at Hogwarts spent the next few days working on strategies to finding the Death Eaters who escaped punishment by feigning death. Those strategies would then go to field-rated Aurors. Hermione spent most of her time thinking of ways to find Draco, almost to the exclusion of all other problems. She disguised what she was doing well, however, for most of her plans concentrated on finding those who may be close to Draco. 

Hermione was contemplating what she felt to be another failure, when she saw Draco turn the corner. He walking and laughing with a few of his Slytherin cronies, and Hermione felt her blood begin to boil. _How dare he act like nothing is wrong! _

Hermione knew she was staring but did not care. Then Draco looked into Hermione's eyes, and sneered. Hermione instinctively curled her own lip back as if she was disgusted with what was in front of her. She turned and walked away.

* * *

Draco watched Hermione go, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He no longer wanted to hurt her, but he knew he could never be close. He had to make a choice, Hermione or his father. He chose his father. _Granger,_ he told himself, _call her Granger._ He took a deep breath, prepared himself for the confrontation he was sure was coming, and walked to class. 

Of course he would have class with her. It would be so much easier if he just never saw her again, but no, he would have to have class with her. He expected her to make some sort of eye contact with him, signal him in some way, but she did no such thing. She sat straight and took copious notes, as she always did. Class ended, and he watched her leave, chatting blissfully away with the weasel. Why did she have to talk to the weasel?

Draco also expected her to be the one to question where he had been, if he was okay, and what he had gone through, but it was clear now she had no intentions of ever speaking to him. Draco knew that was what he wanted, to distance himself from her, but why did it hurt so much that she snubbed him? He brushed aside the thought and smiled wryly to himself. He didn't hurt, just his pride. It took the rest of his next class to convince himself of this fact.

* * *

Hermione felt his eyes on her throughout class, and resisted the urge to look at him. He had been taken by his father, a death eater, and he had the nerve to pretend nothing was wrong! _Unless there really is nothing wrong. Perhaps being in the company of Death Eaters was to his liking! _This thought upset Hermione even more, so upon leaving class she made sure to talk with Ron about something she could care less about that would get Ron in a talkative mood: Quidditch. As she predicted, Ron talked in an excited manner as she smiled and nodded at him. _I'm not going to let him know that I was worried about him being with his father! Looks like he didn't even mind where he was! I should have known. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater._

Things went on this way for a week. Hermione did not want Draco to know she actually had cared, so she ignored him as much as possible. The insults started coming back, in greater ferocity than ever before, but Hermione never responded. Ron of course would get terrible upset when Draco said awful things to Hermione, but she never let it show on her face that she cared. Every time she was insulted by Draco, she would think back on her early plan of revenge. She wished she could pull it off, but considering how well it went last time, decided against rekindling it.

Finally after days of Hermione ignoring Draco, she was roughly pulled into an empty classroom after leaving the library late one night. She instinctively knew it was Draco. Mostly by her pulse quickening, but also because he smelled better than any person she had ever been near. It was unfair really. She was just glad it was Draco who took the initiative in starting a conversation.

She stared at him. Seconds ticked away into minutes. Hermione just stared, a slight questioning look in her eyes as if to ask "what do you want?" Hermione knew she would not speak first. It took all her strength not to throw herself into his arms demanding to know if he was alright. Finally, she could be the silence no longer and in an exasperated tone said, "Malfoy is there something you need? Because I have a lot of work to do, and I don't really appreciate being dragged off into an empty classroom."

Draco paled slightly. Hermione knew it was her words that caught him off guard. He didn't answer. Hermione decided to try a different tactic. She plastered a pleasant smile on her face and asked as sweetly as she could muster, "Did you have a nice time with your father?" She had come to the realization that the pain she felt coming out of the Manor was not Draco's. She was feeling someone else go through the Cruciatus curse.

Finally Draco spoke, "Granger, I don't know what kind of game you are playing but-"

Hermione cut him off, "Oh, bravo Malfoy! Of course I'm playing a game. I've always been playing a game. You were just too stupid to notice." Hermione finally realized she could pull of her original plan. He had fallen right into it. She originally had no intentions of following through with it, but now she could not pass up the opportunity.

"Granger, what are you talking about?"

"It's quite simple really. You see, before we realized Death Eaters were roaming around unshackled and undead, I was bored. You provided me with amusement. Nothing more. It's not as if I 'felt' anything for you. How could I possibly feel anything for the person who made my life and the lives of my best friends miserable?"

"Well, I'm just glad the feeling is mutual. It's not as if a filthy mudblood could actually inspire me to feel anything."

If Draco was trying to get a reaction out of her, Hermione knew he was going to be sadly mistaken. The word hurt, yes, but not as much as hearing he cared nothing for her. She had to hurt him they way he was hurting her. If she did that, perhaps he wouldn't see her cry.

"Malfoy, you disgust me. You are beneath me. So go, run off with your father. Torture and murder muggles. Just keep this in mind: I will be waiting for you to make a mistake, one flaw, and then I'll see to it that you spend the rest of your miserable life locked away. If I don't kill you first." With that, Hermione left the room, leaving a stunned Malfoy alone in the darkness.

* * *

Draco walked back to his common room in a daze, completely perplexed at what had just happened. He was angry Granger said he was only a game and cared nothing for him, conveniently forgetting he said the same thing. The only good thing about their little confrontation was Draco knew without doubt, that continuing with his father's plans was the right thing to do. Before speaking with Granger, he was still confused about what he wanted, and thought he would have to make a difficult choice. _But that mudblood made the choice for me_. He would contact his father tonight. Whatever qualms he had about helping the Death Eaters vanished as he built his anger up towards Hermione Granger. 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

"I'm sorry you will be leaving us Miss Granger." Minerva McGonagall let out a sigh and Hermione gave her a tight smile.

"I need to clear my head, to prepare for what is coming. I feel that I have learned all I can at Hogwarts."

"I understand Miss Granger. And as you have taken your NEWTs early, I see no reason to detain you."

"Thank you for being so understanding Professor."

With that, Hermione left the office of her former teacher and went back to Gryffindor tower. She needed to pack if she was leaving in the morning.

She went through the portrait hole, thankful that it was empty as almost everyone was at dinner.

"Hermione?" Not as empty as she thought.

"Hello Ron."

He was sitting in front of the fire. _He must have been slouching, _thought Hermione, _that's why I couldn't see him_.

They said nothing for a long time. Hermione stared and he stared right back, a confused and slightly hurt expression in his eyes.

"Hermione…why are you leaving?"

"It's complicated." She didn't want to get into everything with him, and so she abruptly turned away and went to her room.

She quickly and efficiently packed everything she had into her school trunk. Not knowing what else to do, she threw herself on her bed and absentmindedly petted Crookshanks. She slept, and when she dreamed, she did not remember them.

* * *

Draco was fuming. It wasn't Hermione's words that upset him; it was how her words made him feel. Draco did not like how he could still feel the anger and shame when she told him she could never feel anything for him. People were not supposed to affect him like that, and the fact that it was Granger who could produce this reaction was even more infuriating.

Draco encouraged the anger, kept it alive and boiling inside him. If he let his anger go, he would have to face the sinking and hopeless realization that Hermione Granger would never rest in his arms again. He would never hold her, touch her, kiss her. He didn't realize how much he wanted her until he knew he would never have her.

"Shit," Draco mumbled aloud, starling those around him. It was the first word he had spoken in hours. He could feel their pity, or scorn, and knew he needed to get away from them. He went to bed, but could not sleep. He didn't want to dream.

He tried to get the anger back, but the effort was too draining. Sleep came at last, and he did dream.

_Draco was running, running from something. Unfortunately his dream self did not let his real self know the cause for the panic. All he knew was to run. He had to run. He was at Hogwarts. The Corridors were filled with the bodies of his classmates, blood was everywhere. Draco was covered in it. He turned a corner, only to step into a river of the warm, sticky fluid. He was wading in a river of blood. The metallic tang caused him to retch. He washed up in the great hall. The enchanted ceiling was dark, and Draco could barely see his hand in front of his face. He heard a cold laugh, and a dim light started to appear. The laughter intensified, and Draco could finally see his father. _

_"I've got a surprise for you, Draco." Draco inched forward, his father flung his cloak to reveal a bound and gagged Hermione. _

_"She's made you weak. A Malfoy is never weak." Hermione began to struggle against the ropes that held her immobile. Lucius smiled, took out a knife, and slit her throat. Her blood splattered his face. _

Draco sat straight up in his bed, breathing heavily, and shaking. He was sweating, but chills kept running down his spine. He looked out his window, and could see a faint brightening in the eastern sky. There was no point in staying in bed.

He threw his sweat soaked sheets off. He set his feet on the floor, placed his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. His dream was a recurring one. The only thing that changed was how Hermione died. He always awoke to remember it, and sometimes he would have it several times a night. He didn't dream of anything else. This time was the worst, and he knew it was because of his fight with Hermione. He never actually saw her die in a dream before. Death would be initiated, but he would wake up before life left her. But this time, he stayed until her eyes were cold and dull, and the blood had congealed on her neck. The whole time his father cackled with joy.

Draco slowly stood up and took a shuddering breath. He would be seeing his father today, and he needed to be sufficiently calm to face him.

* * *

Hermione woke a short time after dawn. She quickly checked all her things. Satisfied she had everything, she got dressed. She was wearing an overlarge sweater and shapeless jeans. Her hair was tightly pulled back. It took about a minute to get dressed and do her hair. She pulled on socks and shoes, checked that she had everything once more, and then dragged her trunk to the common room. Harry was waiting for her.

"Hermione, just what do you think you are doing." He was furious, and Hermione couldn't care less.

"I'm doing what I need to." She didn't elaborate, and had no intentions of doing so, but Harry was in her way.

"You need to finish school."

"You didn't," she threw that one in his face. "And you aren't going to come back, so why is it so important for me."

"Hermione," his voice took on a pleading quality, "Don't throw away your future."

"I'm not Harry. I took my NEWTs already; I've taken everything I need in order to officially complete schooling. It's pointless for me to stay here."

"It's not just your education I'm worried about."

"I'm sick of your worry," she muttered under her breath, but Harry had sharp ears and heard every word.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that all you do is worry about me. And at one time you were probably right to do so. I used to be a soft, silly little girl, but I intend on changing that."

"You are not soft, or silly," Harry quietly informed her.

"We both no that's not true. If that was true, you wouldn't have kept me out of the war against Voldemort. Well, the war isn't over, and I have no intentions of keeping out of it this time. You stopped me last time, fearing I would feel sorry for some death eater and hesitate. Don't try to deny it, I know it's true. Well, I intend to prove to you that I can be heartless. I can control my empathy." This entire speech, which should have been passion filled with righteous indignation, was spoken in a cold monotone.

"How do you intend on 'controlling' your empathy?" Hermione inwardly seethed at his condescending tone, but her face showed nothing.

"By not feeling anything at all." She gathered her things and walked right up to Harry, not willing to just walk around him. He looked down at her sadly, but stepped out of her way.

"I will be gone for a few weeks, and when I come back, I am going to be involved in the order. I will fight. And you will not stop me. I had to stand by while everyone else risked their lives, and I will not do that again."

Hermione went to McGonagall's office, to use her fireplace to get to her parents house. They were vacationing, so Hermione would have the house to herself for three weeks. She knew she would not be capable of feeling nothing, but she would learn how to hide her feelings to the world. She had been planning something like this ever since she was told she would stay behind because of her empathy. She remembered the moment she made the decision.

_Everyone had gone off to fight, but she was left behind. She went to the hospital wing; perhaps she could help with the wounded who would come back. An overwhelming despair consumed her, and in the darkness, she began to cry. Sobs tore at her body. She was sad, scared for her friends, but most of all, she was ashamed. Everyone she loved were risking their lives, and she was safe. Anger flooded through her. How dare they judge her? They thought she was weak. She had to prove them wrong. She stopped crying, took several deep breaths, and decided to not show any more weakness. She hadn't cried since. _

_The war ended, or so they thought at the time. Voldemort was dead, and everyone was celebrating. But Hermione did not participate in the revels. She was about to go down and was giving herself a quick look over in the mirror. Her body had matured in the past year. She was slender, with soft curves. Soft. That was how they saw her. Hermione was disgusted with herself, threw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, and went running. She ran everyday. _

Hermione still ran out of habit, and her body lost a lot of its softness. But with the war ended, she saw no reason to be cold. Now it was starting again, and she needed people to see she wouldn't break. If they saw her as a soft female, they would treat her as one.

At home, she planned a severe exercise regiment. In order to be as unfeeling as possible, all parts of her needed to align. Hard body, cold mind, and emotionless. That's what she needed to be. The hardest of these would be the last. As much as she tried to deny it, she had emotions, and lately they were spinning out of control. The more she tried to not think about Draco, the more he filled her mind. And then there was Harry. He confused her so much. He had only kissed her once, and she didn't know if he would try again. But always, her thoughts went back to Draco.

Ever since coming back to her parents' house, she began to dream again. At first, she dreamt of her childhood, which was natural as she was staying in the house she grew up in. But soon, her thoughts of Draco during the day entered into her dreams at night. Often she would wake up with panting softly with a slight sheen of sweat covering her body. Then she would take a very cold shower.

The three weeks she spent alone blurred together. Right before she was about to go back and join civilization and society, she once again examined herself in the mirror. Her face gained definition. It was full of sharp angles at her jaw, her cheek bones stood out. But the thing she was most proud of was her eyes. They were blank, cold, distant. Emotions, doubts, and fears were swirling around in her mind, but nothing reflected in her eyes.

She got a secretarial job at the ministry, and so she rented out her own flat; she couldn't go back to school. She was in the process of unpacking when an urgent knocking sounded at her door. She ran quickly to answer it and a battered Harry fell into her arms.

"There was an attack." He couldn't elaborate as he had passed out. She dragged him over to the sofa and pulled him on it before covering him in a blanket.

Hours passed with her fretting and worrying before Harry awoke. She ran to his side immediately and kneeled next to him.

"Harry, what happened?"

In a weak and hoarse voice Harry described the sneak attack on the Members of the Order who were transporting what Harry called "the key to our victory."

"What is it? What's going to win this for us?"

"I can't tell you that Hermione."

Hermione fumed. Not only did they think she was weak, but they didn't trust her with vital information to Voldemort's defeat.

Hermione started getting to her feet, but Harry caught her arm.

"It's not my secret to tell."

"Harry, let go of my arm. I want to get some air."

"Hermione, please, don't go. Please don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone anymore."

Hermione sat down on the edge of the sofa next to Harry's waist; Harry had not released her arm. Instead, he sat up, slid his hand up her arm to the side of her face, and pressed their lips together. This kiss started as the first, but quickly turned into something more. Hermione closed her eyes and allowed the kiss to deepen.

Hermione tangled her one hand in Harry's hair, the other stayed at her side. Harry gently, slowly pushed Hermione until her back collided with the sofa.

Hermione heard a soft moan escape Harry, but she paid it no mind. The kiss grew more intense. Harry's hands caressed her body. Hermione knew she should stop him, she didn't feel this way about him.

Hermione kissed Harry back with increasing passion, because all she saw was blonde hair and silver eyes.

* * *

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	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Not mine. Sad face.

* * *

Draco was fuming. Not only were his emotions spinning out of control, but he was sitting in a room full of Gryffindors. He wasn't doing anything, just minding his own business when he was grabbed from behind and a bag was thrown over his head. This was the second time in the past few weeks that he had been kidnapped. He was not happy. And to make matters worse, he was sitting in between two Weasels.

The little weaselette kept giving her moron of a brother some painful kicks to the shin to remind him to keep an on Draco. _Too back she kicks me half the time instead_.

Draco didn't know why he was here, but he assumed it had something to do with his father. They didn't trust him. They never did. Not even when he betrayed his family. Well at least this time they had a good reason not to trust him. After all, he was willing to join his father.

They were sitting in a windowless room, waiting. Draco was bored. Bored and angry. He wanted to know what was going on, what would happen to him, but that was not the first thing on his mind. He couldn't forget the dreams, dreams of Hermione covered in blood, begging for her life at the hands of his father. His thoughts turned to the most recent. Well, at least he didn't have to face his father.

* * *

Hermione slowly opened her eyes, and shut them immediately. The midmorning sun was blinding. She turned her face away from the window and re-opened her eyes. And looked into the face of one of her best friends. Harry Potter. It was then she noticed her surroundings. She was in her bedroom. She was wrapped in a sheet, and with trepidation looked under them. "Shit." Was the hushed whisper that escaped her lips when she realized she was naked. _So, I guess last night wasn't a weird sex dream. Damn._

Harry began to stir. She sat up slowly. Harry opened his eyes and smiled softly at her. Hermione grabbed the sheet, wrapped it around herself, and quickly ran to the bathroom.

She leaned her back against the door, and pounded her head against it. "Shit, shit, shit." She was in complete disbelief. How could she have slept with Harry? He was her best friend. He was Ron's best friend. Ron! "Shit."

Harry knocked softly on the door. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Her voice was forced and falsely cheerful. She heard Harry sigh.

"Hermione, we need to talk." Unfortunately, Hermione agreed with this statement, and slowly opened the door. Harry had gotten dressed, and Hermione blushed because she was still only clad in a sheet. Harry held her robe in his hand, and gave it to her. She grabbed it and slammed the bathroom door.

Her fingers shook as she put her robe on and tied it tightly around her. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the door. Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed, his arms resting on his legs. He looked up at her and before she could do anything said, "I'm sorry."

Hermione didn't know how to respond. So she just nodded.

"I like you Hermione, a lot. But I want you to know that I never planned for anything to happen between us. Do you hate me?"

"Of course I don't hate you, Harry. I'm just upset with myself. I shouldn't have let things get as far as they did. It was a mistake, and I intend to make sure it's a mistake that never happens again."

Harry averted his gaze. Hermione knew he was upset, and her answer was not the one he was hoping for.

Finally, he broke the silence that was surrounding the both of them when he whispered, "Draco Malfoy."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. He knew. She wasn't quite sure what he could know, as she didn't really know.

She managed to choke out, "what do you mean?"

"He's the key."

Hermione was stunned. Malfoy was the key? And Harry was telling her about it? She realized he was trying to win her over by telling her the information she had previously wanted to know.

"How is he the 'key to victory?'" She desperately wanted to know what the future held in store for Draco. How did her life get so complicated?

"It's a bit of long story."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing you are spending the day with me." Hermione knew Harry was going to tell her. She felt bad at the thought of using him like that, but she needed to know what was going to happen to Draco.

Harry let out a sigh. "I'm going to need coffee first. Can we move this into the kitchen?"

Ten minutes later, Harry and Hermione sat at Hermione's kitchen table. Each was holding a cup of coffee, taking sips now and then, but not talking.

Harry was the one to break the silence. He unfolded a tale of blood and betrayal, a tale where Draco was a prominent figure. Harry held Hermione's attention as he told her of a plan Voldemort originally indented to pursue if the war wasn't going his way. It involved the blood of a pureborn heir of Slytherin. Voldemort was a direct heir, but he was not pureblood, so he transferred the connection to Lucius Malfoy, much as ties had been transferred to Harry, minus a killing curse.

Voldemort never got a chance to use his ancient blood magic. However, it was Lucius Malfoy's intention to continue where his former master left off, only this time, his son would be the one to sacrifice.

"Sacrifice?" Hermione was proud of how calm she kept her voice, how she never let panic show through.

"We're not really sure yet how the spell works, but we do know it kills a lot of muggles, and the person who casts it."

"Meaning Lucius was planning on killing his own son."

"Yes."

"We need to figure out more about this spell. I'll start researching immediately." With that, Hermione's mind was already forgetting what had transpired between her and Harry as she concentrated on the task at hand.

* * *

"You have no idea what you are talking about." Draco was taunting, mocking, doing whatever he could to keep the truth from sinking into his mind. _My father wants to kill me_. He silenced the thought. For hours the twits who called themselves "the Order" were prattling on about some spell, a spell that sounded oddly familiar. _Well it should sound familiar; you were researching it for weeks. _Sometimes Draco could not stand that rational part of his mind.

Draco was about to start another round of insults, when she walked into the room. Draco had to remind himself to keep breathing as she came closer to him. He was aware of conversation, but could not make out anything that was said. The next thing he knew, they were alone together.

"Hello Granger," he said as casually as he could.

"Hello Draco." The use of his first name was like a slap in the face. He looked into her eyes, really looked into them, and he did not see what he expected. He expected scorn, perhaps even pity. What he saw was worry and regret.

"My father wants to kill me." _Why would you say that? She doesn't give a shit if your father wants to kill you. She hates you, remember?_

"I know." _And you hate her, REMEMBER?_ Draco absolutely hated arguing with himself. He always lost.

"If he gets his hands on you, he will be able to use your blood to wipe out any and all Muggleborns. I can't allow that. Therefore, you will be staying here, every move you make will be monitored, and you will give us the information you obtained while with you father. Is that clear?"

Draco couldn't speak, couldn't think. The denial he had been building in his head came crashing around him. Of course he would give her the information she needed. His father wanted to kill him. Lucius Malfoy did not deserve loyalty. Draco couldn't speak, so he just nodded.

The cold expression in Hermione's eyes softened, and he realized how much she had changed. She was hard and callous, almost unfeeling.

"Hermione, what happened to you?" He saw her tense as she tersely responded, "I don't have the faintest idea of what you mean."

He grabbed her wrist, she tried to pull away, but he would not release his grip.

"You're not the same person."

"Why do you care?"

He thought about that for a moment, still not releasing her, and the answer came to him. It should have been unexpected, but it wasn't. The only unexpected thing was him saying it aloud.

"Because…I care." It really was an incomplete thought, and Draco wasn't sure if she understood, so he kissed her. And was stunned when she abruptly pulled away.

"I can't. I'm sorry Draco. I have to go." And she left the room.

Draco sat in the tiny, windowless room, breathing hard. He had barely touched her, but he desperately needed a cold shower. Never had she had such a powerful effect on him. He could admit to himself now that he was attracted to her, but he could never even conceive of anyone affecting him like she did.

For the longest time he was confused about whether he could betray his father's trust and let himself feel anything at all, let alone for a muggle born. He now knew he couldn't betray his father's trust because it didn't exist in the first place.

The only problem now? Hermione didn't care for him, if she ever did.

* * *

A/N: So, the weird evil plan thing is loosely based on X-Men 2 when they try to kill all mutants, and then kill all humans. Except it's magic and not superior brain-power. Anyways…I'm sick, and guess what makes me feel better? Reviews!!!!! Yay!!! Please review! 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: It's called "fan"fiction for a reason.

A/N: Sorry, it's been like a month since I've updated.

* * *

Hermione walked quickly out of the room. Why did he have to do this to her? Why did he kiss her? How on earth did she leave? And why couldn't she get he heart to stop beating so fast it felt as if it could beat right of her chest? 

Hermione needed to get home. They really didn't need her at the ministry playing secretary today. And she really needed to be alone right now. She didn't know what she would do if she saw Draco again. The memory of his lips ghosting against hers sent shivers down her spine.

And what if she saw Harry? How was she to act around him? It was a good think Hermione never indulged in retail therapy, or she'd be broke right about now.

She apparated back to her apartment. She quickly stripped off her clothes and got into the hottest tub of water her body could stand.

She finally felt her body start to relax for the first time in weeks; she had forgotten what it felt like to be utterly and completely relaxed. And the feeling was still going to elude her. As soon as she felt she might let go of the tension within her, another worry would creep into her mind. Relaxation would be impossible.

With a sigh she got out of the tub, dried herself with a quick spell, and threw on sweat pants and an oversized shirt. She aimlessly wandered into the kitchen and stared into her open fridge before closing it in frustration. She wasn't hungry anyway.

She stood in the middle of her kitchen, contemplating the emptiness that surrounded her, when there was a knock at the door. Immediately, she went into a mild panic attack.

She stayed where she was, not moving, barely breathing, in the hopes that the person would just go away.

"Hermione, I know you're home. I need to talk to you." She let out the breath she had been holding and went to open the door. She smiled slightly at Ron before inviting him in. He gave her a tight smile in return, but it didn't reach his eyes. Hermione walked back into the kitchen and asked if Ron wanted something to drink. He shook his head no, and Hermione simply shrugged. They sat at the table, neither saying a word. The uncomfortable silence was almost too much to bear. Hermione was about to scream when Ron broke the silence with a simple statement.

"You look like shit."

"Thank you, Ronald. Now is that what you came to tell me?"

"In a way, yes." Hermione looked incredulous.

"What do you mean yes?" She was rather hurt at this statement.

"Hermione, I'm worried about you. And so is Harry."

At the mention of Harry's name, Hermione flushed and looked away.

"I'm fine." She quickly got a hold of herself. She couldn't let emotions get in the way. They were a weakness, a weakness she couldn't afford.

"Hermione, did something happen with you and Harry?" Damn, she gave something away. She really did not need this right now. There were death eaters on the loose. Emotions, those pesky things, were swirling beneath the surface, but Hermione was determined not to show Ron. She didn't want to show anyone. So while on the inside Hermione was filling with shame and sadness, and even a little lust, he exterior got, if possible, even more cold.

"What makes you think that, Ron?" She saw him gulp at the frostiness in her voice. But he steeled his courage and looked her straight in the eye.

"Don't play games with me. I know you slept with Harry." He said it with such conviction. He really did know. Hermione finally let an emotion slip from her: anger.

Her eyes flashed with more life than anyone had seen in weeks. And she got even angrier at Ron's slight smile. This was usually the point where Hermione tried to keep her anger in check, where she tried to become stone. But no longer. She was furious.

"How dare you. You knew, and you came here and played with me. I thought we were friends, but all you want is to rub my mistakes in my face? How dare you!" She was shouting now, something she hadn't done in a long time.

Ron's satisfied smirk fell from his face at her words. "You think it was a mistake?"

"Of course it was a mistake. What, did you think we would fall madly in love and have lots of sex and babies?"

By Ron's expression, apparently he thought exactly that. Hermione gave a slight laugh; it was bitter and full of self-loathing. "I'm sorry Ron, but that's not how the world works. And why do you look so upset. I thought you'd be upset. I mean, we did have something…once."

Ron stood slowly. "You've changed Hermione. Congratulations. After all, this was what you wanted. To be cold and unfeeling. Too bad you had to hurt people in the process." He started to leave, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"So that's it. You come here with God knows what intentions to belittle me and make me feel bad that I don't love Harry because I think I may love someone else?" Hermione released Ron's arm in order to cover her mouth. Shaking, she sat back down. Did she love Draco?

* * *

Draco hadn't moved. After Hermione's abrupt exit, he didn't know what to do with himself. Things weren't supposed to work this way. He finally realized he cared for her. Possibly more than just caring. He had finally let go of his hate and his need for his father's approval. Things could work between them now. So what went wrong? 

Draco put his head in his hands. It wasn't bad enough his father wanted to kill him, now he had to fall for a girl who didn't care for him. And she didn't care. If she did, she wouldn't have left. Draco was going to make his confession to her that he…that he what? Loved her? It didn't matter anymore. Draco laughed at himself. Who was he to think that if he changed a bit, that anyone could love him. And did he love her?

Yes.

He had loved her for a long time now. Possibly even before he had ever kissed her.

It didn't matter that she didn't love him, or that she was only playing with her. He was hopelessly in love with her. And she would never feel the same way.

He raised his head as Harry Potter entered the room. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Draco cut him off.

"You want me to give you information, right?" Draco didn't wait for a reply, but instead offered all the information he knew. About the spell, hideouts, who was alive. He told Harry of the new Hierarchy that existed within the ranks. Harry received more information about death eaters in that time with Draco than he ever learned in the years he had been fighting them.

Draco wasn't doing this to help the "good" guys. He wasn't doing it to get back at his father. Not that Draco would ever admit it, but he was giving away every piece of information he knew for Hermione. It was all for her.

Draco was taking a break in talking when Ron came into the room. His face was grim. Harry turned and smiled at his friend, but his face fell.

"How is she?" Harry asked, hope shining from his eyes.

"Not good. She's too thin."

"Did she say anything about…the other night?" Draco smirked at Harry's tone. _Awe, does Harry have a little crush. That's too much._

"I brought it up, yes." Ron was avoiding something.

"Ron, you can tell me. If you don't tell me, I'm just going to go over there."

"She said it was a mistake. I'm sorry mate."

"I understand. It was really too much to hope for."

"I'm really sorry. I know how you've felt about her for a long time."

Things were getting a little to intimate for Draco, so he gave a slight cough. They both jumped. Draco was a little upset. How could they forget he was in the room?

"As touching as all this is, are we done here?" Draco's tone was light and mocking. Harry nodded, "I'll have someone escort you to a safe house."

Draco smirked. As he was leaving the room, he caught one last snippet of conversation.

"Shit Ron, I didn't remember to use anything! Fuck!"

"Harry, I don't think you have anything to worry about. I mean, this is Hermione we're talking about."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. _Harry and Hermione!_ Draco was fuming. And on the verge of tears. But Malfoys don't cry, so he didn't. No wonder she pushed him away. She had the bloody boy-who-lived to keep her warm at night. She didn't need him. Draco walked away, met with his escort, and was brought to his safe house. But he really didn't remember much. He was too lost in thought. By the time he got to the safe house, he was fully convinced that Harry and Hermione were happy together and practically engaged, conveniently forgetting that she thought it was a mistake.

* * *

A/N: okay, I was watching _Love Actually_, and a couple lines might have snuck in. 

Also, last chapter I shamelessly begged for reviews because I was sick. And I didn't get very many. And you know what happened? I got the FLU!

Anyways…please review.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione was staring blankly at her new desk. She had been promoted to the Department for the Welfare of Magical Creatures. Apparently a place for S.P.E.W. had been found. Not only would she work on House Elf rights, but the rights of werewolves and centaurs and any other creature human witches and wizards considered beneath them.

Mindy, the girl who had her old secretary job brought in the last of the paperwork Hermione needed to fill out. Hermione's blank expression didn't change. She barely blinked when her promotion was announced. She signed the papers without looking, but Mindy didn't take them away. Instead, she walked over and closed the door. Hermione finally broke out of her near paralytic state and blinked several times.

"Can I help you Mindy?" Hermione asked in a polite, if distant tone.

"I think you are the one who needs help. Now don't give me that offended look. I've been in enough messed up relationships to know you've got guy problems."

Hermione was stunned, and her shock increased when Mindy took a seat, looked pointedly at her, and demanded, "Spill."

Even more shocking to Hermione was the fact that she did spill. Not with any names though. She used Man A (Draco) and Man B (Harry). Apart from that, for the next few days, Mindy heard everything.

"So then I slept with Man B even though I think I was thinking about Man A. But I'm not really sure if I want Man A either. I know I shouldn't be with either. And I feel really bad about hurting Man B, because he is…was my friend. I don't even know if we are friends anymore. And I thought Man A despised me, but then he told me he cared for me, but I don't think Man A cares for anyone other than himself, but I don't know what kind of ulterior motive he could have." Hermione paused and took a deep breath. Mindy looked thoughtful.

"Well, you definitely got yourself into a bit of a mess."

"Thank you Mindy for giving the understatement of the year. It's been such a help."

"Well, you said you aren't sure if you want, Man A was it? Well, I think you need to figure that out."

There was a knock at the door. "Come in" Hermione called and Harry walked through the door.

"We need to talk. Can you spare a few minutes?" Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.

"We'll finish this later," Mindy warned on her way out.

"I need your help." Harry wouldn't look at Hermione. His gaze swept her new office, never resting for too long on a particular place; just never at her.

"What's the problem?"

"It's Draco. He was telling us everything we needed to know. But when we went to get more information, he wouldn't say anything. Not even an insult." It was so strange to hear Harry call Draco by his name rather than Malfoy.

"What do you want me to do?" She couldn't see Draco, she couldn't.

"I need you to talk to him. To use your Empathy to get him to talk. If he doesn't tell us, we can't help him, and he will die." Cold seeped into Hermione's bones, chills went down her spine, and fear enveloped her. She could only nod in response.

* * *

Draco couldn't believe it, couldn't believe her. First she's just toying with him, and now she has to rub it in his face? They walked in together! Harry and Hermione. Well if it isn't the bloody fucking perfect couple.

And to make matters worse, she kept blathering on about how they only wanted to help him. He didn't believe them. Why would they want to help him? Why would she? After all, she was only playing a game. That's what she said.

He didn't speak to them. He didn't even look at them, especially not her.

* * *

Hermione was getting exasperated. She could tell Draco wasn't even listening to her. She couldn't understand why one minute he would be open and helpful, and the next unwilling to do anything at all. Finally she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Harry, I need to speak with you." He nodded, exasperation showing on his face. Neither saw the pained look that crossed Draco's face, but Hermione felt it. She turned back to look at him, but she could decipher nothing from his back.

Hermione and Harry went back to Hermione's office.

"Harry, I don't know what you want me to do. I don't know how I'm helping. I can feel that he's hurt and upset, but that's all. I don't know what to do."

"I don't know either Hermione. But we have to figure out what's going on. Because if we don't, a lot of people are going to die, and you'll be one of them."

"I know. Look, why don't I try to speak with him alone, see what I can do. If he doesn't give me anything, I'll take what we do know and start researching." She was looking at Harry the whole time. He never once looked at her. "And Harry…" he finally looked at her, "we need to talk as well."

He stared at her for a few seconds. "Hermione," he paused, "if anything should come up, you would tell me right?"

"Harry, what are you talking about?"

"Er, nothing."

"No, you're concerned. What's the matter?"

"I'm not concerned. Nothings wrong. Just forget I said anything."

"Harry, I know you're worried. Now just tell me what's going on."

"I'm worried you might be pregnant because we didn't use any protection!" He said in a hurried rush. Silence followed his pronouncement. Hermione went through shock that he felt that way, and then, surprisingly, amusement. She began to giggle, and then laugh. Harry turned red with embarrassment.

"I'm so glad you find this funny." He was indignant.

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry. It's just…I am a very good witch. You don't really think I had no idea how to perform a simple contraceptive charm?" Her laughter was dying down, but mirth still bubbled beneath the surface.

"When did you do that?" He was now incredulous.

"Harry, did you forget a little thing called wandless magic? How long has this been bothering you?"

Harry didn't answer her question. Instead he had one of his own. "Why do you know a contraceptive charm?"

Hermione's laughter stopped abruptly. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she answered, "You didn't think you were my first, did you?" Again, he didn't answer her question. He just looked away.

"I think you should try and get information from Draco now." Hermione felt anger building inside her, but instead of trying to hide it under a stoic's mask, she let it all out. She showed emotion, real, raw emotion for the first time in weeks. He was upset that she wasn't a virgin for him.

"How dare you." Harry turned back to her at the quiet menace in her voice. He recoiled slightly at the rage burning in her eyes. "I can sleep with whomever I want, whenever I want. You have no say in the matter. And I can have a one night stand mistake. I'm allowed to make a mistake!" She was shouting at this point. "People make mistakes, so why can't you understand that what happened between us shouldn't have?" She stopped shouting, and was now breathing heavily. It felt good to let her emotions out, but she regretted it instantly. What if they now thought she was unstable and couldn't fight? That was the reason she decided not to feel anything in the first place.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. Hermione felt his pain. It was sharp and intense.

"Me too," she whispered back, sincerely. Harry hesitantly went up and put his arms around her. Hermione had every intention of giving him a brief squeeze before going to talk to Draco, but she didn't. Instead she held on to him. He wrapped his fingers in her hair. Hermione knew she should stop now, but…she didn't want to. Harry was one of her best friends, and she didn't want to hurt him. Finally, she pulled back.

"We'll talk more later, okay? Right now, we have a job to do. I'll see what I can do with Draco." Harry nodded his response. Hermione let go of him and left her office. Mindy was sitting outside, and gave Hermione a bit of a smirk. Hermione gave her a confused look, but the smirk was forgotten as she made her way back to Draco.

* * *

Draco was fuming now. They had been gone for a long time. _Probably needed a snogging session_, he thought bitterly. The door handle turned, and Hermione entered the room, alone. He eyed her critically, trying to decipher in anything had gone on other than talking. He couldn't tell. She looked composed, but Hermione had a very icy exterior. It would be difficult to tell. He tried to think of how she looked after they had been together. And then he regretted his thoughts as memories began to flood his mind. Memories of Hermione with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, the feel of her body against his.

He wanted her, and he was angry with her for being with Harry. She didn't speak for a long time. Instead she sat across the table from him. And just looked at him. He looked right back in her eyes, and tried to get some control of his thoughts. She was an empath. Did she know what he was feeling? He shifted uncomfortably at the thought, but did not look away.

And then he began to talk. He wasn't going to. He didn't want to help them. And so what if he died? Or so he thought. But when she was sitting this close to him, he knew he wanted to live. If only to ruin her relationship with Harry. _What does she see in Wonder boy anyway? _He told her all he could remember. And then he let his head fall on the table, not caring that his forehead would get red.

He heard Hermione's chair scrape against the floor, but to his surprise she wasn't leaving. Instead she walked around the table and sat in the chair next to him.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was timid, shy. He rolled his head to the side so he could look at her. And her eyes had so much expression of them. Never had she been so open with him through her eyes. He could see right into her. He never noticed how closed off she had been until now. He slowly raised his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I'm fine. I think."

"Draco," she began, but Draco didn't give her time to say anything. Instead he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. He thought she would pull away or turn her head. He did not expect her to press him back into his chair. He had forgotten how wonderful it felt to taste her. He slid his hand under her shirt, her ill-fitting drab shirt, and marveled that she didn't protest. Instead, she moved her mouth to his neck, sucking on his pulse point. He stifled a moan.

"No one can hear us," she whispered into his ear before nibbling on the lobe. They broke apart instantly when they heard a knock on the door.

* * *

A/N: Ahhh, it's been over a month since my last update! I'm so sorry. I must say thank you to all who have reviewed thus far, and everyone who has put this little story on favorites or alerts. I really do appreciate all of you!!!!!!! (Even if I am too lazy to thank everyone individually:) 


	12. Chapter 12

Hermione desperately tried to make her self look presentable in a few seconds. She tugged at her shirt and ran a hand through her hair before calling "come in." She was so nervous it would be Harry.

Mindy walked through the door. She had another huge stack of papers. _Didn't I sign enough papers already?_ Hermione sighed and held out her hands in order to take them. Mindy slowly handed them over, but didn't take her eyes of Draco. She wasn't eyeing him, or trying to flirt. Instead, Mindy was staring between the two of them, a look of slight concentration on her face. Hermione snatched the papers quickly. Mindy slowly started to smile. Draco let his head fall back on the table.

Mindy's smile got bigger. Hermione could feel the utter glee within her. She tried to give Mindy a glare, but Mindy just smirked, and walked out the door.

Hermione couldn't look at Draco, and he wasn't looking at her. They just sat in an awkward silence. Hermione began to pace, a bad habit she acquired during the war.

The silence was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Hermione knew she was acting like a silly school girl, but she couldn't help it. She had no idea what to do or say. She couldn't understand what had happened. _Why did I kiss him back? I should have stopped him_.

* * *

Draco didn't move from where he was. Hermione's pacing was starting to irritate him, but to be perfectly honest, this whole situation was getting on his nerves. First, she acts like a little slut, they have a few heated snogging sessions, she's hot for him, then cold. And then she says it was all a game. _Then she's FUCKING HARRY POTTER_. Draco takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm himself. _I can't believe I kissed her. And she kissed back. Stupid secretary. _

And then Draco's thoughts go back to the previous minutes when Hermione was pressing into him, her breath hot against his ear whispering "no one can hear us." He shifts uncomfortably, trying to get those thoughts out of his head. He really wished his body wasn't so responsive to a bloody memory. That's all it was, a memory. And he was getting hard. Shit.

He gave a dejected moan and began banging his head against the table, aware in the back of his mind that his behavior was not very fitting for a Malfoy.

"Draco, what on earth are you doing?"

He vaguely aware of hands grabbing at him, trying to get him to stop.

"Draco, stop it!" And he stopped. He sneered at himself when he realized he would do anything she asked of him. Also behavior unfitting for a Malfoy.

"I think you need to get some rest." And then she got up and left. Draco stared blankly at the door, not quite comprehending what was going on. He wasn't left alone for long. In a matter of minutes, an auror (probably his escort) and a healer where in the room with him. She was not. The healer began muttering to herself, and waving her wand in a rather ridiculous looking fashion. They were checking his mental health. Great.

After a lengthy process, it was concluded that Draco was simply stressed, and needed to get back to the safe house. This did not lighten Draco's mood at all, and he almost began to bang his head against the table once more.

* * *

Hermione was supposed to be reading a report of a case against half-veela being sued for inciting a riot at a nude muggle beach. She was supposed to be filling out the paper work for said case. She was supposed to be doing her job. She was not supposed to be thinking about a quick kiss with the son of a Death Eater.

That was all they had ever shared, a few kisses. Granted, some of them had been rather intense, but they had no other connection than a physical one. Hermione began to blush as she recalled the ridiculous outfit she had first worn to get revenge. _Talk about naughty school girl!_ She laughed softly at herself. It had really not been that long ago.

She was startled out of her reverie by a soft knock. Mindy entered, this time not bearing a stack of papers. Hermione tried not to frown at the secretary. After all, she didn't mean to interrupt. _And I'm not upset that she did. Who knows what could have happened?_ Hermione was striving to convince herself that she was in no way angry with her secretary for stopping what could have become rather…intimate.

"Yes Mindy?" Hermione just wanted to be left alone. This was without a doubt one of the worst days of her life.

Mindy shut the door. She had the same look in her face as when she confronted Hermione about relationship issues. Actually, the face was a bit different. It looked far too predatory than the last one. Hermione tried to look nonchalant, as Mindy made herself comfortable in the chair across from Hermione's desk.

"I must say, I am rather impressed. And a bit jealous."

"What are you talking about?"

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. You do know how to pick them don't you?"

"I haven't the slightest idea as to what you are referring to." But Hermione's mouth had gone dry, and if her hands were not tightly clenching in her lap under her desk, Mindy would have seen them shaking.

"Hermione, it's okay. I figured out who Man A and Man B are. And I just think that you probably need someone to talk to."

"Mindy, I think you should not say another word."

Mindy continued as if no threat had been made. "It wasn't that difficult to figure out. Oh, don't give me that look. Anyone else would miss it, but you told me everything but names, so of course I figured it out. But you've got to admit, while the two of them are very tempting, being involved with both at the same time could have some dire consequences."

"What?"

"Hermione, you're very intelligent. Don't tell me it never occurred to you that seeing both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy could be dangerous?"

"I am not seeing both of them! I'm not seeing either of them!"

"Although…now that I think about it, both of them would be rather amazing."

"Mindy, did you just come in her to mock my sex life, because it's very annoying."

"What? No, I don't want to mock you. I actually wanted to help you. However, on the topic of your sex life, sleeping with one guy and then fooling around with another while at work could be construed as 'seeing' someone"

"That's not helping."

"I know. Look. I tried to give you some advice earlier. You said you weren't really sure if you truly wanted Draco, Man A…whatever. And I still think you need to figure that out. You also need to think about your feelings for Harry. And don't give me any more of that 'I was thinking of someone else bullshit' because if you truly did not want to have sex with Harry you wouldn't have."

Hermione sat in a stunned silence. The truth of Mindy's words was bouncing around in her brain, along with images of that night. Yes, the feel of Harry's body against hers, his mouth caressing her skin did bring up thoughts of Draco. Yes, sometimes when she closed her eyes, she did forget who she was with. But one moment of that night collapsed any theory she might have been lying to herself with. Green eyes, startling, beautiful green eyes, looking at her, into her, questioning if it should continue. And she let it. She had willingly and knowingly slept with one of her best friends.

Hermione leaned back into her chair, dejected. She had wanted Harry.

And then came another startling revelation: she still wanted to know if she wanted Draco as well. She wanted to take Mindy's advice.

"Thank you Mindy."

* * *

Draco stared at the dingy room, contemplating for the thousandth time why, if the safe house was wizard property, did the room have to resemble a filthy muggle motel room. It almost made him regret turning on his father. Malfoys did know how to live in style, and that was one part of his life he was sorely missing.

_At least if I were in a real muggle motel, I could watch…that stupid…box thing! _As it was, the only thing he could do was read, and the material he was allowed to read was so incredibly dry that he mostly just slept. Which for his depressed mind, was not such a bad thing, but when he slept, he left himself vulnerable to dreams.

It was disconcerting, really, to have dreams about Hermione dying in the same night has having intense…sex dreams. Sex dreams that also involved Hermione. He really needed to get his hands on a dreamless sleep potion. However, he found it very unlikely that he would be given any kind of potion. Especially if it made this whole experience better for him. His keepers were not particularly fond of him.

He could hear thunder outside. Usually, he found the sound comforting, especially when he was lying in bed. The sound of thunder pounding and rain falling on the roof mixed with the flashes of lightening were usually soothing to him, particularly when his mind was in turmoil. But now the sound just made him angry. Perhaps it was because the room he was in had no windows; he couldn't see the lightning. The whole effect of the storm was ruined.

The lights began to flicker. And he couldn't even use magic. Ever. Not until his father was stopped. His magic could be traced. The lights went out. Draco sat in the darkness, pondering how things could get worse.

He snarled slightly when his incompetent and brusque guard burst through the door, announced he had a visitor, and put a battery operated lamp on the floor. Draco didn't even know what a battery was until he got here.

Draco sat in the garish, yet dim, white light, hoping and dreading his 'visitor' would be Hermione. He wasn't sure what would be worse: seeing her after he's kissed her, or not seeing her tonight and instead dreaming about her. He'd probably dream either way.

And then she was standing in his room, dripping wet and unable to dry herself because no one was allowed to do magic in his presence. They were completely immersed within muggle society for his protection.

She shivered slightly. Draco really didn't know what to do, so he just sat and stared at her.

* * *

Hermione was cold. Very cold. And scared. She really had no idea what she was doing here. And he wouldn't look away. And she couldn't look away from him. She had willingly put herself back into the awkward situation from earlier. All the courage she had mustered left her. She licked her lips; they were dry even though everything else about her was soaking. Finally he looked away, squeezing his eyes shut.

Hermione finally realized exactly where they were: a filthy, dank motel room. It was all rather sleazy. Here she was, ready to determine her true feelings. And the source of those feeling was sitting in rumpled clothes on bed in a motel. It was enough to make her giggle. And then she was laughing. And then she was crying.

* * *

Draco's eyes snapped open. She was just standing there, staring. And then she was crying. He slowly slid off the bed, and wrapped his arms around her. She was shivering and crying. She held onto him, her fingers digging into his back.

"Um," Draco paused. What he was going to ask would not sound appropriate. "Do you want to take your robe off? It's soaking, and it's what's making you cold."

Fortunately, Hermione's mind was not focusing on what his was, and she didn't get the unintentional innuendo within his question. Instead, she just nodded and began shrugging out of it. Underneath she had on the drab, ill-fitting shirt from earlier. Damn, he did not need to think about what happened during the day. Not when she was like this.

The wet robe fell to the floor, and then she was back in his arms. Her tears had stopped, she had already gotten control. Her body began to regain warmth, and her shivering stopped. But she did not let go.

* * *

Hermione was using the time her body was taking to warm up to organize her thoughts and emotions. How far did she want to go? Did she feel anything for him? Did she want to know?

She was getting warmer. The rain was freezing. And then suddenly, it was too warm. She was holding onto him so tightly, and it felt wonderful. Draco was rubbing his hands in small circles on her back, and he almost jerked away when she started to do the same. Her head was still buried in his neck. She shifted ever so slightly. Her lips met with his neck, and she kissed him softly. She heard his quick intake of breath. It was a wonderful feeling to know that soft kiss would affect him so strongly. She kissed his jaw. He was holding perfectly still, barely breathing. She pulled back to look into his eyes. She saw confusion and lust in them.

* * *

Draco really didn't understand what Hermione was doing. And he really didn't care. All he knew was that he wanted her. No more games. No more teasing. Just him and her. He pulled her to him, crashed his lips against hers, and all pretense of softness left. She kissed him back, hungrily. He walked backwards until his legs hit the bed. He fell backwards, pulling her on top of him.

And this time, no secretary would disturb them.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I wasn't sure if I would continue this after the release of the 7th book, but then someone asked for me to continue, so I will. For now.**

* * *

Hermione was on top of Draco, straddling his hips and hastily trying to unbutton her shirt without breaking the contact of their lips. Her brain was fuzzy with sensation, and the feel of Draco beneath her, moving with her, was almost too much for her rational mind to bear.

She got a few of the buttons undone, and in her impatience, broke off the kiss. She sat up, and calmly tried to undo the rest. Her fingers were shaking, and the buttons were small. She hard a slight snort, and looked indignantly at Draco. He had a grin on his face. A grin. Not a sneer. It was a wonderful change. His eyes were bright, and he looked genuinely happy.

Hermione smiled gently as Draco slowly reached up and unbuttoned her shirt. She let it slide off her shoulders before leaning back and placing a kiss on Draco's lips.

Draco didn't kiss back.

Hermione looked into his eyes. He was staring straight up, barely breathing and not blinking.

"Draco?" Hermione whispered. No response. Without bothering to button her shirt, Hermione leaped off him, ran to the door and shouted for help. Lucius Malfoy's plan was beginning much sooner than anyone had anticipated.

* * *

Draco was completely aware of everything, but he couldn't move. He could think and listen and understand, but he couldn't interact. He was lying on the bed in the safe house, and people were surrounding him, prodding him with their wands and shining light into his eyes. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Hermione; her shirt wasn't buttoned properly.

He officially hated his father now. He had been so freaking close to being with Hermione. Why couldn't have the spell started tomorrow? That would have been great. Maybe he could have died happy. But no. His father had to start the spell for world dominance now. Life sucked. And he had an itch on his arm. And he was still completely and hopelessly turned on.

And he was probably going to die within the next few hours.

The door opened, and his life just got worse. The boy wonder walked in and went straight to Hermione. It was hard to see exactly what happened, but Draco was fairly certain they were hugging. What the fuck was she doing hugging him after they had almost had sex?

Draco was so angry his finger twitched, inciting the healers surrounding him to double their efforts in prodding him. He almost wished for death.

* * *

Hermione was enveloped in Harry's arms. She clung to him, hoping he could save Draco. She could hear the whispers of what everyone thought of her. "Whore" being the most prominent. It wasn't fair. If a guy had two girls, he'd be a player, making him more desirable. But the moment a woman wanted a bit of time to choose, she was a filthy whore. Even so Hermione stayed in Harry's arms. They were a comfort, familiar.

Remaining in Harry's arms was probably a very stupid idea, as she was still slightly flushed after her contact with Draco. Even the fear and panic of what was happening couldn't take her lust from her.

Finally she detached herself and crept towards the bed, hoping something had changed. Draco was exactly where she had left him, with one change. He now had a slight hickey.

She felt Harry come up behind her. He looked from the hickey on Draco's neck to how her shirt wasn't buttoned all the way. She watched as the connection was made in his head. She saw understanding in his eyes, how the brightness went out of them.

"Harry," she started, but he turned away and walked out the door. Hermione looked down at Draco before following Harry out into the hallway.

* * *

Draco was angry. Why did she have to follow him out? Was he not important? Draco knew he was whining, and whining was unbefitting a Malfoy, but he couldn't help it. That was the effect Hermione had on him. He would act in ways he never would have thought before.

It was in the midst of his musings the itch on his arm began to spread. He felt as if bugs were crawling under his skin, over his whole body. His entire body was one big itch, and then he began to burn. It was an intense heat, so powerful he wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He couldn't thrash or move or do anything to stop the pain. He could only stare at the ceiling and await death.

* * *

"What were you doing with Draco?"

Hermione wondered yet again at Harry calling him Draco instead of Malfoy. Especially when he's angry at him.

"Well?"

Hermione still did not answer. She was feeling something from the room. She was feeling Draco. Feeling his pain. She spun around and all but ran into the room, pushing the healers aside and grabbing onto his hand. The connection intensified the pain for her, giving her some inkling of what he was truly feeling. She felt the burning, Draco's intense need for it all to end.

And then Hermione did something she had never before attempted, something she didn't even think was possible. Hermione took Draco's pain into herself. It was something she had read about in passing, but not something she ever thought she would do.

The pain she felt intensified, but she could feel the relief emitting from Draco. He blinked and began to stir. Hermione was light-headed with pain and felt herself drifting off. She eased herself onto the bed and shut her eyes. She could no longer move.

The spell required the sacrifice of a pure-blood, but Hermione had taken the connection onto herself, a muggle. The spell was weakening and distorting, but it would probably kill her. Hermione accepted this fact. The last thing she remembered before falling into blackness was gentle hands on her shoulders and back. Three of them.

* * *

Draco couldn't believe what was happening. The woman he wanted was slowly dying because she sacrificed herself for him, and now he was sitting across from her ex-lover/friend boy-wonder.

Draco couldn't understand what would possess Hermione to do such a thing. He was acutely aware of his own feelings for her, but now it seemed she felt the same. Except she was hugging Potter? His mind did always like to argue with him. He usually was upset at it, but talking to himself was always better than conversing with Potter.

"Malfoy," Harry paused as Draco finally deigned to look at him, "we need to discuss what happened."

"Look, what Hermione does with her life is no concern of yours. She is allowed to be with whoever she wants."

"I was talking about the spell, but now that you bring it up-"

"What more do you need to know about the spell, I've told you everything. All the research I've done on it. I don't know how to help Hermione!" Draco said her name and his despair flowed between them. Draco knew Harry felt how upset he was.

"Draco," his name sounded bizarre coming from Harry. "Look. I'm not stupid. Obviously Hermione has strong feelings for you. If," he paused, "when, she wakes up, she's yours."

Draco knew he should be overjoyed at Harry's capitulation, but the image of her in Harry's arms wouldn't leave him. Sure, she may have wanted to sleep with him, but that didn't mean she would leave the chance she had with Harry for him.

"Well Potter, I guess you aren't as smart as you think you are."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's not such a smart idea to think you know exactly how Hermione feels. She has a choice to make: you or me. I intend to let her make it."

Draco smirked as Harry raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes Potter, I do have some semblance of a heart."

Harry gave Draco a return smirk.

Draco knew he would willingly have Hermione choose Harry if she would just wake up.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I know it's been forever. Who's still interested?**


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione was bored

**Okay, I know this has been a really long time in coming. At first I wasn't even sure I was going to continue, and then some stuff came up…**

**But, I like where this is going, and with the proper encouragement, I will see this through to the end.**

Draco couldn't sleep. Hermione had been moved to St. Mungo's several hours ago, and he had been brought to another safe house. Again, he could only sit and wait. This time not for his death, but Hermione's. He didn't think he could take it.

He began to pace back and forth across the small room. It was just as dingy as the other one. Except this bed was smaller. Draco began thinking of the other bed, and Hermione in that bed. Naturally his thoughts went to his hands caressing her body, her lips grazing his skin. He sat on the edge of the bed and flung himself backwards. He crossed his hands behind his head and let thoughts of her consume him. He felt slightly guilty. After all, she was in a coma and he could only think dirty thoughts about her.

A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts, and he quickly looked down before answering it. Harry Potter stood at the door. They stood staring at one another in an uncomfortable silence. Finally Harry spoke.

"Can I come in?" Harry gestured with his eyes towards Draco's "security."

Draco nodded slightly before stepping out of Harry's way. Harry went over and sat on the bed. It was the only piece of furniture in the room. Draco crossed his arms and leaned against the door.

"Draco," his name still sounded strange coming from the boy-wonders lips, "I need your help."

Draco uncrossed his arms slowly and made his way towards Harry. "What do you want?"

"When we did a sweep of Malfoy Manner, after you had been kidnapped by your father, some very interesting texts were found. I think a lot of them pertained to the spell cast by Lucius. However, they are in the Ministry, and no matter how often I've been pleading for the past few days to look at them, I've been denied access."

"Days? Hermione's only been in a coma for a few hours. Why have you been looking for days?"

Harry continued as if he hadn't heard. "The time for being polite is over. I need to get into the ministry and get those books, and I don't think I can do it alone."

Draco sat next to Harry on the bed. "How do we get me out of here?"

Harry smiled and pulled out something that looked like silver fabric.

"Is that what I think it is?" Draco asked, amused and annoyed at the same time.

"If you're thinking it's the latest fashion, then no." Draco scoffed at Harry's bad joke, but was impressed to finally discover how Harry had gotten away with so much when he was in school.

Draco took in a deep breath before answering Harry. As much as he wanted to help Hermione, the thought of spending more than a few minutes with Harry was rather unbearable. Plus, they would need to be rather close under that cloak, and Draco didn't particularly relish the thought. He let out his breath and nodded. "When do we leave?"

"Now," and with that, Harry stood up, motioned for Draco to put on his shoes, and placed the cloak over Draco. "We'll apparate to nearby the Ministry, and then the cloak will need to cover us both, but for now, they need to see me leaving."

Harry opened the door and nodded to the guards there. Draco tried to keep as close to Harry as possible, to insure the door would not hit him as it closed. They walked outside and down into an alley to apparate. With a crack, they were on their way.

* * *

A light rain had started as they approached the ministry. Draco shivered slightly in his t-shirt. The wind picked up; thunder rumbled in the distance. Harry had the cloak wrapped around them, but it was made for invisibility, not keeping out the rain.

They passed the visitor's entrance. _Apparently he knows another way in_. Harry led Draco down a tight alley. A muggle fire escape took up nearly the whole way. Harry reached for his wand, pointed it at the ground and mumbled something Draco couldn't quite make out. A ladder emerged from the ground to connect with the fire escape up above. Draco realized they couldn't both be under the cloak when they made the climb.

"Draco, you could be seen. What are you doing?"

"Better for me to be seen than you. I'm already suspected to be a dangerous criminal, but you need to be able to get help for Hermione."

Draco removed the cloak and began the climb. The ladder was old and rusty, yes slippery from the rain. It didn't feel steady or secure, but he went up as fast as he could. Harry was not far behind him. He waited at the first landing, hoping they didn't have to go any farther. Luck was with them, and as Harry reached the landing, he quickly threw the cloak back over Draco, whispered another spell, and the ladder went back into the ground.

* * *

It seemed like they had been at the ministry for hours. Draco had expected to enter into someplace exciting or thrilling, the department of mysteries perhaps. But no, they were in an evidence room. It was a tight, dark, dank hallway with shelves on either side. Harry and Draco couldn't fit side by side. At first it was strange to see all his things put on display, but the novelty of that wore off quickly, and he wished he could never see it again.

"Harry," Harry glanced up at him, "Why are we looking at all this stuff? I thought you found texts or books or something." Draco held up a pair of glass unicorn figurines that had belonged to his mother. "I can't read this."

"Embedded messages."

"What?"

"We're looking for messages, clues, anything, that will lead us to any other information."

"Oh," Draco paused, "Do you want me to look at books?" Harry glanced up.

"Sure."

Draco made his way down the hallway, bypassing the various stuff that he used to treasure. It was meaningless to him now. Harry's wand light was a mere speck in the distance by the time he reached the section where the Malfoy library collection was being stored. He sighed and picked one up.

Again hours seemed to pass, but Draco knew they couldn't have been there as long as he felt they had. And then he heard the soft footfalls of someone approaching him quickly. He turned, and Harry was racing towards him. Harry put out his wand light and Draco quickly did the same.

"What's going on, Harry?"

"Someone's coming! It's nearly dawn."

"Where's the cloak?"

"Shit!"

"What do you mean shit?"

Instead of responding, Harry quickly put his hand over Draco's mouth and pushed him in between two sets of shelves. Draco's back hit the cold stone wall. Harry didn't remove his hand. Instead he pushed himself into Draco, as if the closer they both got to the wall, the more invisible they would become.

The footsteps were getting louder, and out of his peripheral vision, Draco could see wand light. He could feel Harry's heart beating against his chest. It was as fast as his own. Draco clenched his one fist and clutched his wand tightly in his other. He knew Harry was doing the same.

The shelves were deep, they were in shadows, and no one was looking for them. It seemed unlikely that they would be found. However, the consequences if they were would be drastic and lasting. The footsteps were closer. They were fast, but not hurried. The wand light was steady, not searching. They might be okay.

The footsteps were almost upon them. Harry pressed himself even closer.

And then they were passed. The receding, echoing footsteps were like music to Draco's ears. Finally, they could no longer see the light, and eventually, the steps were gone as well. Harry finally removed his hand from over Draco's mouth and took a step back. Draco stayed against the wall, trying to make his heart stop racing.

"I think I'll help look through books."

Draco nodded in response. Harry turned and went over to where Draco had left off in his search. He took in a few shuddering breaths, closed his eyes tightly, and pushed himself off the wall. They had a lot of work to do still.

Now, time seemed to be gone. Draco would think only a few minutes had passed, but it would be an hour later. He was acutely aware of where Harry was at all times, even when Harry made his way down the Hall to retrieve his cloak.

But in the end, it was worth it.

"Harry. I think I found something."


	15. Chapter 15

Okay, I know this has been FOREVER but I had almost given up on this story...and then I found this chapter that I had already written over the summer!! I guess I had given up on it. Again, I'm really sorry this has taken so long to update...I hope you all can get back into it.

* * *

Hermione's eyes hurt. They felt dry and itchy, and she knew she would have to clear all the sleep from them. She went reach up and wipe and her face, and her arms felt heavy. She groaned slightly. Why did she feel so awful? And where was she? When did she fall asleep? She tried to remember what she was doing before she went to bed.

And then she realized she wasn't in her bed. She struggled to open her eyes, panicking slightly. Her eyelids just felt so heavy though. She heard several sets of footsteps coming from where she assumed would be a hallway. It took a strong act of will, but she opened her eyes. And then she shut them again. She was in a room at St. Mungo's, and the light was blinding.

The door to her room opened slowly. She heard the sound of whispering, but she couldn't make out the words, or who was speaking.

She opened her eyes the tiniest bit, squinting so as to not let light in. Harry and Draco were standing in her doorway, heads bent close together. She opened her eyes all the way, trying to adjust quickly. It was wonderful to see them.

Finally, their voices raised enough so she could hear them.

"How do we know it worked?" Draco asked Harry.

"Well, she's alive. That's good…right?" Harry didn't sound so sure.

"Yeah, but she's not out of the coma yet."

"I know."

"What are we gonna do?"

Harry paused. "I don't know."

"If she…if she doesn't…I don't know what I would do." Draco's voice cracked slightly near the end, but he recovered himself. He is a Malfoy after all Hermione thought to herself.

Harry just nodded in response as if he didn't trust himself to sleep. Hermione thought now might be a good time to let them know she was awake.

"Well, I guess it's a good thing we won't have to find out." Her voice was raspy, as if she'd been screaming. She smiled gently at their stunned faces. And then they were at her side, but they stopped short of touching her. She wanted to be enveloped in their warmth, to hold onto them and never let go. But they didn't move. One was on each side of the hospital bed, but neither made a move. Her smile faded.

"What's the matter?"

Draco and Harry just looked at each other, unsure of how to answer. She reached out and grabbed on of their hands in each of her own, gripping tightly, but neither one gripped back. She didn't let go. They wouldn't meet her eyes.

"What is it?" Her voice had gone hard. She was overjoyed to be alive, that Draco was alive, and they were being stupid.

* * *

Draco couldn't stand this. He was so close to Hermione. They had saved her. He had saved the woman he loved with Harry bloody Potter. And yes, he loved her. He loved her so much he was willing to let her go. But she had to choose. They had decided that would be the best way. Neither one would make any attempts to get her back, neither one would be intimate with her in any way, until she had made her choice.

Draco looked at Harry. "We need to tell her."

"Tell me what?" Hermione snapped, confusion, anger and a hint of sadness in her voice.

Harry looked down at her, then back up at Draco. Draco nodded. Harry could tell her what they decided.

"You have to choose."

"What?"

Draco decided he should help too.

"Between us. We can't keep going on like this. We need to know who you want to be with."

Hermione pursed her lips before replying, "Get out." She dropped their hands and folded her own in her lap. They didn't move. "Get out!" She screamed with what was left of her voice.

Draco was devastated. All he wanted to do was to comfort her, but he couldn't do that to Harry. In saving Hermione's life, they had grown closer than he would have ever thought possible. Comforting Hermione would have broken the deal. He nodded slightly before turning and walking away. Harry was right behind him. Draco sat down, posture nearly perfect, and tried to put on a cold, Malfoy mask. Harry put his head in his hands.

* * *

Hermione was furious. How dare they spring that on her while she was in the hospital! She nearly died, and they wanted her to decide which one she would take as her lover?! She railed inside her own head for a bit before she calmed down enough to try and think rationally. Hermione prided herself on her ability to think, so she was slightly embarrassed by her inability to control her emotions. Of course she had a choice to make, she just wasn't sure if she wanted to.

Obviously she didn't want to think about this while she lay in a hospital bed. She wanted to be in her own bed. She swung the blankets off. She wasn't even in a hospital gown, but rather, the clothes she was wearing. Come to think of it, she'd being wearing these clothes for quite awhile. She wanted to shower. No, she wanted a bubble bath. And a fluffy robe and then hot chocolate. She didn't want to think about the choice she had to make. Because she realized now that she did have to make a decision. She needed to take charge of her life.

Back in her flat, Hermione sat soaking in a tub that was more bubbles than water. She had swapped out the hot chocolate for a dry red wine. Her body ached from the spell, but that was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. Two men loved her, that was more than many women could hope for. And yet she had never felt so alone. The thought of one of them being in despair was too much for her.

* * *

Draco was over at Harry's flat. He wasn't quite sure why he was there, but Harry offered him a drink, and Draco felt like he needed it. The flat was…nice. It was smallish, but the simplicity made it feel bigger. Papers were spread everywhere, and Harry had to move some things before Draco could actually have a seat.

Harry pulled out the firewhiskey. "I usually don't feel the need for this but…"Harry shrugged in completion of his sentence. Draco nodded in response, and swallowed a huge mouthful, welcoming the burning warmth. He felt cold and empty. Harry sat down on a couch across from Draco, and took a generous swig.

Nearly half an hour had passed, the bottle was nearly empty, and Draco was feeling generous about sharing his emotions.

"And she used to make me so angry, you know! And I was always like 'what game are you playing with me?' you know? And she kept telling me that she wasn't playing anything, and I used to get angry, but now I don't even care!"

Harry was nodding emphatically before jumping into the conversation. "I didn't even know when it happened. It was like before I knew it, she wasn't just this friend who happened to be a girl. She was like…different. And I didn't really know how to be around her, and then I didn't see her for a while, and then I saw her, and I had to kiss her, and I did, and I don't regret it, but I don't know if she likes me, or just doesn't want to hurt me, because she's my friend."

This sharing went on for some time, and Draco knew it should stop. He didn't want to hear about how Harry had sex with Hermione. Except he couldn't bring himself to stop Harry. He may never get a chance to be with Hermione, and was going to take what he could get. That realization was as painful as when he learned his father was trying to kill him. What if she chose Harry? What would he do with himself? How could he find anyone else you could make him burn and long and at the same time compete with him intellectually? Hermione was the only person who ever bested him in school. She was perfect.

* * *

Hermione took time with her appearance after her bath. She tossed the poor fitting, unflattering clothes she had been wearing for the past several weeks. She even took some time on her hair and put on a bit of make up. Getting ready was like putting on battle armor. She was preparing herself for the choice she had already made. There was a good chance that with this decision she would end up alone for the rest of her life, but she didn't care.

They couldn't make her choose.

She would be alone before they placed an ultimatum on her.

She breathed deeply as she stared at her reflection in the powder room mirror. It was time to tell them what conclusions she had come to.

She apparated first to Draco's, but he was not in. She began to panic. How was she supposed to find him? She hadn't quite figured that part out yet. She decided to try Harry's place next, and luck was with her. They were both there, and quite tipsy too. They were sitting next to each other on Harry's couch, laughing hysterically. Bottles were strewn over the coffee table, most of them were empty, or near enough.

Luckily, Hermione didn't need to rely on Harry to get into this flat. She was able to stand in the doorway and just watch them. Draco was leaning back against the arm of one end, and Harry was turned sideways, sitting crossed legged where the couch dipped in the center. She walked farther in the room. Draco was the first to notice her, and he sobered up to the point where he could stop his laughter. He just stared at her. Harry stared at Draco in confusion before following the direction of Draco's gaze.

Hermione smirked at the unbelief in both their gazes, before sitting in the chair across from both of them. The both sat forward. Harry was still dead center in the couch, causing Draco to slide down towards him. In his inebriated state, he would have fallen over, but Harry caught him and sat him straight.

When they were still and staring at Hermione, she took a big breath. She hadn't quite prepared a speech, but she did have a few things she wanted to say, and they both looked eager to hear who she had chosen, and sick at the thought of being rejected.

"You both came to the conclusion that I had to pick one of you. That it wouldn't be 'right' or 'fair' any other way. You gave me an ultimatum. I don't particularly like ultimatums." She paused here so they could understand the full weight of what she was saying before continuing. "So, I have made my choice."

With that, she got up from her seat and made her way over to the couch, where she bent down and kissed Harry on the mouth.

* * *

Draco thought he was dying. He was sure he was going to die. He could only sit in stunned silence as Hermione kissed Harry. The kiss was slow and passionate, and he felt like a complete fool, because even though he wouldn't be with her, at least she was happy, and her happiness was more important to him than his own. He looked away

He was about to get up and leave, after all it was Harry's flat, when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked back, and it was Hermione.

"Don't go." She whispered, before kissing him too. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddled on either side of him, relishing the feel of her body against his.

But she had kissed Potter. He didn't understand why she would kiss Harry and then him. Which one of them did she pick? He pulled back from her. She didn't get off his lap.

"Hermione...what's going on?" Draco asked, his question echoing the confused look in Harry's face.

"I've already told you, I made my choice."

"But you didn't choose!" Harry and Draco shouted together.

"Exactly," was her only reply. Draco watched in disbelief as while she was still on his lap, she pulled Harry in for another kiss.

_What the hell?_ was his only thought before he began to kiss his way up her neck.

* * *

Let me know what you think!! (That is me begging for reviews)


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